


Wandering Star

by alexei_hecate



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Reapers, Angst, Assassin Shepard, Awkward Flirting, C-Sec, Canon-Typical Violence, Detectives, Developing Relationship, Drug Use, F/M, Honestly they are such dorks, Hurt/Comfort, I tried to do fluff, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Mass Effect AU, Serial Killer, Slow Build, Spectres Kaidan and Ashley are on the case, fighting as flirting, i dont know how to tag sorry, the mako makes an appearance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-06
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2018-04-03 03:17:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 35,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4084618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexei_hecate/pseuds/alexei_hecate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Growing up as an orphan on Earth wasn’t easy.</p><p>Growing up as a weapon trained to kill before hitting puberty was worse.</p><p>Now Shepard is starting a new life on the Citadel, with a new identity and job, hoping her old life won’t catch up to her in the most violent and bloodthirsty of ways. Going from assassin to C-Sec officer isn’t simple, especially with such an attractive turian as her partner, a collection fucked-up murders, and being forced to work in close contact with people who know her real identity.</p><p>Facing down the destruction of the galaxy would be easier than this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

The cheapest shuttle from Earth to the Citadel was cramped and humid.There was a strange substance that coated the floor and it kind ofstuck to your shoe when you walked down the isle between the too small seats. A child was crying loudly for their mother that was nowhere to be found, and two men loudly argued over which Blasto film was the best.  
  
  
  
  
But the anonymity was worth it, the fact that none of these people had a clue who she was. Only who she was now. Jane Shepard.  
  
  
  
  
Shepard sat in a seat pressed up against a window, flipping through her note book that contained all the information on her new life. She had already memorised the contents but it was comforting to see the receipts for down payments on her apartment and furniture and the arrangements for her weapons to be shipped to her place from a faux address. The list of foreign accounts that she had used to bounce around the sum of money she had acquired from jobs over the years. Evidence of the payment she had made to the human ambassador as a bribe for him to put in a good word for her new identity at C-Sec. They would never suspect to find her working at C-Sec, considering her ex-profession. It was the perfect cover.  
  
  
  
  
Her seat neighbour was a homely older woman that smelt distinctly of baby powder. She kept peering at Shepard’s notebook, trying to read the contents. Shepard let them, knowing that they wouldn’t be able to decipher her cursive Cyrillic, the language was damn near dead anyway. She opened up a fresh page where she began to absent mindedly practice scrawling her signature as Jane Shepard.  
  
  
  
  
“Recently married, dear?” piped up her neighbour, gesturing to her page of signatures.  
  
  
  
  
Shepard smiled and let out a soft non-committal hum, hoping that the lack of conversation on her part would discourage them from pursuing questioning her further. Not that it had worked the first five times but Jane was not going to give into small talk now.  
  
  
  
  
Shifting in her seat to look out the window and angle herself away from further conversation, she spied the large space station floating in the abyss of the Serpent nebula. Running her fingers along her hair line she made sure that her wild blonde hair wasn't escaping the confines of her beanie as she readied herself for a swift exit off the shuttle and into her fresh start on the Citadel.  
  
  
  
  
A glazed eyed shuttle attendant requested the attention of the shuttle and started covering what time to adjust omni-tools to and how to safely vacate the shuttle. Their voice continued to drone on, bored with reciting the over used lines, their body language oozing exasperation as they gestured to directions to elevators in the docking bays.  
  
  
  
  
Shepard exit as quickly as she could, her lithe form dodging around the bumbling passengers. The docking bay was loud and colourful. She had experienced the variation of races before on the planets she had visited on assignments but nothing compared to the diversity of the crowds of the Citadel.  
  
  
  
  
Escaping the masses in the confines of an elevator she leant against the cool metal of the wall. Closing her eyes, she began compiling a mental list of essentials she needed to pick up before she went to her apartment in the wards.  
  
  
  
  
Through the bustling crowds in the presidium she languidly passed through food stores, looking at the bright alien fruits and strange meats. Though the crowds were constantly changing there was one constant: a turian with bold white facial markings who was tracking her. He was doing it well, anyone else wouldn't have noticed, but having tracked people in her past she knew exactly what he was doing.  
  
  
  
  
Ducking into an asari owned clothing store she went up to the sales assistant and asked for styling help, desperately gesturing to her baggy blouse and jeans that were filled with worn holes. The pretty lilac asari assistant was more than happy to play dress up with her.  
  
  
  
  
Emerging from the store with two full bags of new clothing as well as her groceries, she spied her turian stalker reading a data pad outside  
a café opposite the store she was just in. Rolling her eyes in exasperation she stomped over to the table. Confrontation was always the best way to deal with problems, right?  
  
  
  
  
Loudly dropping her packages on the table in front of the turian she slumped into the other chair at the table.  
  
  
  
  
“I heard you were dead.”  
  
  
  
  
Shepard snorted. “Good.”  
  
  
  
  
“I also heard that you are now a traitor to the Reds and Rosco has a bounty for anyone who brings him your head.” The turian looked up from his data pad. “Honestly, Olesya. What the fuck were you thinking killing his husband? I told you the last time we crossed paths to get the hell out of there.”  
  
  
  
  
“Like I had a fucking choice other than to stay. Nihlus,” she spat. She leaned forward, shoulders slumping. “I think I'm out now, though. Olesya Zolnerowich is dead, and Jane Shepard lives on.” She grinned at the sound of her new name on her lips.  
  
  
  
  
Nihlus studied her and shook his head. “You are the strangest human I have ever met. So what the hell are you doing here?”  
  
  
  
  
“Look as much as I would love to stay and chat I'm kind of putting my ass out on the line by sitting in public still looking like Olesya. Come back to my apartment and I will tell all,” she said, stretching and doing a brief sweep of the area to make sure that no one else had recognised her. “Oh! And to sweeten the deal and a bribe to keep your silence on the fact you have seen me, I got you this,” she said, pushing a brown paper bag towards the Spectre.  
  
  
  
  
Nihlus peered at the contents of the bag, brow plates shooting up. “Wow. Actual turian whisky.”  
  
  
  
  
Shepard shrugged. “I saw you pretty much immediately and knew you'd wanna know what’s going on so, this is a peace offering.”  
  
  
  
  
Her apartment was a vast chrome and white void. No furniture but a desk and a sofa. A mattress slumped against a wall, still bound in plastic. Gushes of artificial light from outside were coming though an oversized window facing the entrance.  
  
  
  
  
“Love what you have done with the place, Shepard,” Nihlus said dryly.  
  
  
  
  
Shepard grunted, putting her groceries away in her small kitchen to the side of the front door. “There are cups... Somewhere... If you want to crack open the whisky. Because I'm sure as hell going to have to be a little drunk to tell this story.” Unscrewing the cap on a bottle of vodka she took a deep swig, then grabbed a bag and made her way to the bathroom.  
  
  
  
  
As she waited for Nihlus, she stripped off her blouse and beanie, shaking out her untamable curls that reached her waist. She took another gulp of the alcohol, welcoming the burn that coursed down her throat and the warmth that was growing in her stomach.  
  
  
  
  
“Okay. So lets hear it what have you done this time kid,” the spectre said, taking a seat on the toilet that faced the vanity that Shepard was occupying, trying to ignore the scars and jagged tattoos that littered her skin. The woman sighed as she began to hack chunks of her hair, letting little blonde coils tumble to the polished marble tiles beneath her feet.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
**Three days earlier.**  
  
  
  
  
These days the Reds were being more lenient in regards to her freedom. She was now allowed an apartment (although it was still inside the mob's base). An actual apartment, no longer a cell with no windows. She could leave when she wanted, but the chip in her arm always told her boss where she was.  
  
  
  
  
She didn't have any friends. She wasn't particularly bothered about it. She hadn't experienced friendship, her life was full of distrust, and she stuck closely to her motto “kill or be killed”. When you were raised by a mafia that turned you into a trained killer – a weapon - your taught morals are wildly warped from what would be considered ambiguous at least.  
  
  
  
  
The way her hits were assigned to her by the Reds leaders, the Alistratov brothers, were commissioned by clients or were to settle the brothers' personal grudges. An information package would then be delivered to her through a personal visit from her handler Damyan.  
  
  
  
  
She found him lurking in her lounge area. His large dark form was covered in an entirely black suit, it was as if he were an embodiment of shadow. “Nikoli has a new job for you Olesya,” his voice rumbled in an almost turian like manor. Stepping forward into the light his angular face was illuminated revealing a raised scar that ran the length of the left side of his face. Damyan left a USB chip on her coffee table and as suddenly as he had arrived he was gone.  
  
  
  
  
Wandering over to her private terminal with the chip in hand she plugged it in. The files began to pop up on the holo screen.  
  
  
  
  
Her target was Rosco Alistratov's husband. Francis.  
  
  
  
  
Pouring over the information in mild disbelief she saw evidence of embezzlement, trading secrets of the Alistratov's to rival crime families and other acts of indecency. His execution was to be carried out in a similar style to an Irish family's. Two gunshot wounds to the head, entry from behind.  
  
  
  
  
Well. A job was a job but she couldn't help but feel as if something was off. But it wasn't up to her to feel things, she was meant to do.  
  
  
  
  
**Present**  
  
  
  
  
“Wait. So are you saying that Francis was a traitor?” Nihlus asked with mirth in his voice.  
  
  
  
  
“Kryik! For fucks sake will you stop interrupting!” Shepard said as she slapped the final dregs of red hair dye into her newly short hair.  
  
  
  
  
Rolling his eyes he sat back and gestured for her to continue.  
  
  
  
  
“Anyway as I was saying. I did the job. Turns out fucking Nikoli was the traitor and was getting paid out by some other family and tried to put all of his shit on Francis. When Rosco found out he started beating the shit out of Nik. Then, Nikoli being the pathetic pyjak that he is took me down with him. I tried to tell Rosco that it was bullshit but you can't reason with an angry Rosco so I faked my own death.” Jane finished with a shrug.  
  
  
  
  
“So... Now you are on the Citadel under a fake identity to do what exactly?”  
  
  
  
  
With a smirk Shepard help up a syringe of colour warping nanites to her eye and injected them. “Jane Shepard is not fake, she is very real,” she said turning to her turian friend with eyes that were slowly changing to green. “Jane Shepard is a C-Sec investigator.” A wicked grin spread across her lips as Nihlus groaned and let out a  
string of curses.  
  
  
  
  
“Ollie, you have got to be fucking kidding me.”  
  
  
  


 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey so in this chapter there is a bit of talk about murder and dead bodies so if that makes you uncomfortable just skip the last lil bit of the chapter :) i don't go into much detail but just a lil warning all the same

Garrus Vakarian was swamped with paperwork. Even though he had only been at his desk for an hour sifting through data pads of paper work, it felt like hours. He tugged at the cowl of his armor and clicked the vertebrae in his neck.

 

“Vakarian!” The voice of his supervisor boomed. “ Your new partner Jane Shepard is coming in today,” Garrus stilled for a moment. Crap. He had forgotten about that. “You know the partner I have been reminding you about for the past three weeks.”

 

“Uh yeah the human one right?”

 

Pallin grmbled in vexation. “Yes. The human one. I wouldn't make you do this but Udina has been pressing that there needs to be more humans accepted into C-Sec and this one actually has a half decent record.”

 

Garrus didn't have a grudge against humans like some of his older turian co-workers. Although he wasn't exactly thrilled to be getting a new partner, he had worked well with his previous partner Chellic, who was now working by himself.

 

“When she gets in I trust you to show her around and catch her up on your current investigations?”

 

“Of course, Sir.”

 

Another hour later he heard a husky female voice say his name. Turning in his desk chair towards the voice he faced a tall, thin woman with a bright red fringe... hair? She thrust her hand out at him, lips lifting up into a smile revealing pearly white teeth. “Jane Shepard, your new comrade.” Garrus stared at her hand which made her straighten and smooth the hand against her uniform pants. “Right. Turians don't shake. Great start Shepard.” She mumbled.

 

“Uh yeah, sorry. Your desk is there,” he gestured to the empty desk in front of him “and I will forward you the current investigations I have open.” He said quickly turning back to his terminal, gathering the files into a message for her.

 

The human was studying him when Garrus looked up. Her gaze make him slightly uncomfortable, her eyes were a bright green but had no warmth to them. They were just... empty. She smiled at him again with her shiny blunt teeth. “Thanks Vakarian.” Even in smiling her eyes remained dead.

 

To Garrus there was something about this woman that seemed off. Not that it was his place to judge the new recruit but he definitely wanted to get his hands on her background check.

 

Throughout the day he kept finding himself looking up at his Shepard. Each time he gazed at her she was intently sifting though reports and typing something up on her terminal as well as scribbling on a pad of paper. Who even used paper anyone?

 

This time when he looked at her she was looking right back at him. Garrus shifted uncomfortably and cast his eyes away.

 

“Vakarian?”

 

Gingerly he looked up to meet her eyes again. She was looking at him with the same intent as before. The empty emerald eyes boring into him.

He cleared his throat. “Yes?”

 

“Do you have an older brother or something?”

 

“No?”

 

“A father?”

 

Why the hell was she asking about his family of all things? “Yeah...”

 

The human looked away and hummed softly. After a few minutes of awkward silence Garrus frustratedly tried to figure out why she was asking about his father. Was this a human thing? Was he meant to ask about her father? Damn.

 

Suddenly “Why?” came tumbling out his mouth.

 

Shepard abruptly sat up looking mildly embarrassed. “Oh!” She lent back in her chair and ran her fingers through her hair. “Your facial marking, I feel like I know someone with the exact some ones.”

 

Garrus had no idea what to say to that. Thankfully, Shepard cleared her throat and handed him over a data pad. “Here are some leads I found on some cases and my opinions. You know, if you wanted my opinion. Also there is one file that says I don't have clearance to view, so I don't know if you sent it by accident or what.”

 

“Ah, yeah. That. Uh its probably I.T's fault, they probably didn't know what was being assigned to you so they didn't know what to give you clearance on.”

 

“Sure, Vakarian. Blame the nerds. So show me on your terminal, if there is something I'm not meant to see I definitely want to see it.” She said getting out of her chair and stretched her arms about her head and clicked the vertebrae in her neck. “I'm not used to sitting still for so long.” she said grinning and stood behind him.

 

“We should be getting more field work soon-” He was cut short when she leant over his shoulder to get a better look at his holo-screen. Her warm, floral scent was overpowering, and he could feel the heat of her breath on his neck. A turian would never stand this close to someone. But he felt... something... about the way she was acting so familiar with him. He pushed the thought away very quickly and continued to log into the password protected file.

 

“Holy shit.” Shepard cursed softly as the report came up.

 

“Yeah.”

 

The report was of a recent murder. So far Garrus had found no leads and no evidence. It was an enigma.

 

The images attached showed the body of a human victim. They had been skinned, the muscle and tendons removed from the bone and had been placed into an exploded view of the anatomy. There was no blood or other bodily fluids. Just the skin, meat and bone in three neatly aranged strips.

 

Out the corner of his eye he peeked at Shepard, her eyes were quickly flitting over the written section of the report. She had brough up her thumb to her mouth and was chewing it thoughtfully.

“I have never seen an M.O like this before. This is completely fucked.”

 

Garrus snorted. “Yeah, you can say that again.”

 

“I have never-” Garrus let out a chuckle at her attempt of lightening the mood.

 

“Wait. Fuck. Garrus... Is that the address of the murder?”

 

“Yeah why? Know it?”

 

“Know it!” She let out a small huff of laughter. “Garrus I just fucking moved in there.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

Garrus found that he was beginning to enjoy working with Shepard. They argued at times, not out of spite for one another, just to voice their opinions to each other. Garrus found that a lot of his partners views were morally grey and he had a hard time of understanding her thought process. At times this made him more suspicious of her motives and past.

 

For the most part he pushed back against those suspicions because she was a good detective and they had been closing cases together faster than Garrus would have ever done on his own.

 

A few weeks after Shepard had started they had fallen into a routine; her buying them caffeinated drinks (he still had no idea how she knew exactly what he drank, especially because humans generally had no knowledge of dextro food).

 

During their breaks they would end up talking about the murder case. Pouring over the facts, thinking they had had a break through and then it flopping. At one point Shepard had dragged Garrus over to her _home_ that was the goddamned _crime scene_ forced him to lay in the position of the body parts in case there was some kind of hidden clue. Much to Garrus' annoyance Shepard ended up giggling at him and asked him to scan the apartment with a black light to find any blood or bodily fluids. They found nothing,not even any of Shepard's .Garrus was shocked, he had never known humans could be so clean. He almost found it suspicious that she was so clean. He pushed the thought away feeling like he was now trying to find flaws in her.

 

Time was moving slowly for Shepard and Vakarian. Not many people were in the precinct and those who were just stared vacantly at their terminals. The two investigators were sitting in the break room, having just finished filing away paper work on an case for an old human woman who had sworn someone been scuttling around in the vents above her apartment only for the duo to find it was her cat.  

 

Shepard stood up and walked to the pot of coffee and poured herself a mug. “You know if I was you, Vakarian I would have taken that lovely old lady's offer of dinner. I can't believe you turned down a free meal.”

 

“Shepard!” He threw one of the peanuts she had been eating at her and she caught it in her mouth.  “The woman was practically all over me, I'm lucky I managed to get out of there with my armour still on. Having a meal with the woman would have been tempting fate!”

 

Shepard snorted. “ You need to change your name to Garrus ‘Irresistible to Old Human Women’ Vakarian.” She sat down at the table with her coffee. “Throw another peanut at me. I wanna see if I can catch it again, I’m amazing.”

 

Just as Garrus threw another peanut at her a just as a hysteric conversation further away caught her attention, her head turning to look for the source of the sudden commotion. She brushed away the peanut that landed in her hair and got up to see what was going on.

 

“She's holding a gun to herself! No one can get close enough to her!”

 

Shepard walked up to the Alliance lieutenant that was talking slightly hysterically. “What's going on?” Shepard inquired.

 

“There is a girl holding herself up in the Alliance docking bay holding a gun on herself. She was captured by batarian slavers when they raided Mindoir. We have a sniper on her but we were hoping that we could get someone to negotiate with her, you know talk her down,” the lieutenant replied. 

 

Shepard bit her lip. She knew she could appeal with the girl, hell, she had spent the majority of her life a slave to the Reds, killing whenever they wished.

 

“Let... Let me talk to her. I think I know what to say to her.” She realised that Garrus had followed her though and was eyeing with a certain air of suspicion. She looked away from his gaze.

 

The lieutenant briefed her on where the sniper was if things went to shit and gave her a sedative to give the girl. Garrus told her that he would sit with the sniper and that he would have her six. With a firm nod she went to the docking bay.

 

Though the scope of his rifle Garrus watched his lanky red haired partner slowly approach the girl. Shepard held up her hands and appeared to be talking to the girl infront of her. Slowly, taking little steps towards her, Shepard was right in front of her. Finally, she passed the girl the sedative. A mass sigh of relief passed through the entire docking station; even Garrus let out the breath he had been holding, intent on trying to assess the constant threat on the integrity of Shepard's safety.

 

The girl was being escorted into a sky car off to a safe location. Garrus' eyes were searching for Shepard. He saw her crouched down next to a crate with her head in her hands.

 

He moved down to her quickly, knowing that the situation must have been rough for her, the weight of responsibility that she put on herself would have been intense. Taking a young girl’s life into her hands like that...

 

He got down to the somewhat deserted entry to the docking station. A flash of red hair caught his attention and he yelled out to Shepard.

 

“Garrus!” she replied with a meek smile on her face. “We did it big guy.” She gently patted him on the arm as she leant against the wall behind them.

 

“More like _you_ did it. What did you say to her?”

 

He was used to the dead look in Shepard's eyes, but the emptiness in them now was nothing like he had seen before.

 

“Oh. Just told her that it gets better. That if I can do my thing even though I am somewhat damaged goods, she can definitely get better.”

 

Garrus looked at her. This revelation seemed uncharacteristically personal for Shepard. He felt somewhat protective of her, the emptiness in her eyes looked almost vulnerable.

 

“Shep... what do you mean, that you're 'damaged goods?'” he asked quietly.

 

Shepard's omni-tool pinged loudly. “Looks like we don't have time for my tragic backstory today, G.” Her weak smile returned. “When I had my medical check they found something wrong with my amp. I might have to get it replaced, I guess I’ll find out at my check up.” She paused. “Look... I might not be in tomorrow, but ping me if you need me.”

 

And with that she left Garrus, with questions swirling around in his mind.

 

**20 years ago**

 

When she woke up the house was quiet. It wasn't normally this quiet. Usually Momma was up and opening up the store and Papa was making breakfast in the kitchen.

 

She gingerly walked down the stairs calling out. No answer reached her. Panic began to rise in her dry throat.

 

She did what Papa told her to do if something bad happened. She went back up to her her bedroom and got her back pack and the shotgun from her wardrobe. Taking a deep breath and closing her watering eyes she made her way back towards the living room. 

 

"Papa?"

 

Before entering the room, the a thick, metallic smell hung in the air, like copper. Panic began to crawl up her spine and reach its icy fingers down her limbs. She had a horrible feeling she knew what that smell was. She had to look. She had to know. 

 

Her parents’ bodies we slouched in their seats around the dining table. Their heads had been blown off. Only the meaty shells of their skulls remained. 

 

A broken sob came from her mouth, her little body shaking. 

 

She ran. That's what they always told her. If the bad people came. She had to run. 

 

Run fast for your mother, run fast for your father. 

 

She ran through the dingy streets, still heavy with fog. The cold morning air burned her lungs as she took heavy breaths. She didn't know how long she had been running and she no longer knew where she was. 

 

She entered an alleyway that was lined with dumpsters. She crawled between two of them and made a small barricade made from cardboard boxes. The stench of rotten food and trash was overwhelming but it was better than being found. 

 

Tears were still falling heavily down her face, she let her sobs take over. She cried till her head hurt and her eyes were red and swollen. The image of her parents, faceless and blown wide open seemed seared onto the backs of her eyelids, and she couldn’t escape it, like she was still standing in the room and hadn’t left.

 

Heavy footsteps began to approach her hiding place. Eyes widening, she clamped a hand over her mouth. She had to stay quiet.

 

She knew that her parents’ employers would be looking for her. 

 

She wouldn't let them take her. 

 

Never. 

 

She was going to be free, she was going to do what her Momma told her. She wasn't gonna belong to someone like her parent. She wasn't gonna belong to the Reds. She knew what they did to little girls. They trained them to kill, and them made them kill.

 

She wasn't gonna do that. She wasn't gonna be owned. 

 

The heavy stomp of boots came closer. She readied her shotgun and aimed through a little gap that she created in the box that kept the distance between her and the outside. 

 

"Olesya," her name was called in a mocking singsong voice. "You can't hide forever. We saw you come this way," the voice said again, this time the gruff voice was flat.

 

They had people everywhere. Gods she hoped that it wasn't them that killed her parents. Maybe they were going to kill her too.

 

"I won't hurt you. I'm here to protect you. I will take you somewhere safe," the voice said as if it could read her mind. But her Momma had said… she’d said never to trust them. They were bad people.

 

She took a deep breath, put on her backpack and burst out of her her cover. The man was tall and covered in thick, wiry hair. She didn't think, just pulled the trigger of her shotgun. The kick of the gun landed her on her backside, and she lay on the cold concrete, feeling the dampness of the rain from the night before soaking into her pants. 

 

She rolled over onto her knees and bolted over the body that now had a hole in it's abdomen, fingers and limbs still twitching in death. 

 

She ran until she thudded into a solid figure. She swallowed, her throat raw.

 

"Sorry mister," she apologized. Her voice was shaking.

 

"What’s a nice little girl doing with a horrible gun like this?" he asked her. He sounded familiar, and so did the language he spoke. His voice was thick with the accent of her parents’ mother tongue.

 

She looked up to see a dark face with a scar stretching down the length of his cheek, pulling and puckering the skin. "I may be little, but I am not nice," she retorted in the mother tongue, taking a step back, cocking the gun. Her Momma said that anyone who spoke the mother tongue was bad and should never be trusted. 

 

As she walked backwards she backed up into a woman. She turned to look at her when the man snatched her gun - then everything went black.

 

She woke. She was cold. Her head was throbbing. 

 

She looked around. She was in a small cell that smelled damp, like mildew and rot. The walls were white and there was moss growing in the corners.

 

Lifting her hand to the back of her neck she felt the source of her pain, both the sharp sting of skin and the source of the headache that seemed to pound through her brain. There was a stitched up gash that ran an inch or two horizontally across her neck.

 

Her hand came away from her neck. Fingers covered in blood.

 

She screamed. 

 

Blue and purple tendrils of dark energy swirled around her hands and up her arms, it spread to the rest of her body and she screamed louder and louder. 

 

She pounded her fists against the floor, the concrete starting to crack and break up.

 

Then once again, everything went black.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Shepard sat on the floor of the shower and let the hot water beat down her back. She absently ran her fingers across the line of where they replaced her biotic amp; it'd already begun healing up nicely. With the previous day of dealing with that poor girl and then getting operated on, it'd dragged up memories of the past that had effected her more than she would have liked to admit.

 

During her mandatory medical examination before joining C-Sec they had found something wrong with the amp. She wasn't entirely surprised, considering that the butchers who had put it in her were far from professional. She told them she'd take care of it, skirting around their questions of how and where she had gotten it. Shepard had inquired with a salarian friend that she had helped in the past and asked for the favour of replacing her amp. Fortunately he was close to the Citadel and removed the amp that had been spilling radiation into her blood and replaced it with the military standard.

 

Since the amp had been in for so long, it'd become deeply embedded in tissue and nerves. “Tricky, but manageable,” her doctor had said. She felt like shit; she had never handled general anaesthetic well, always waking up groggy and sick to her stomach, despite the high quality of the stuff aboard the Citadel. She had rushed home as soon as he had given her the all clear, breaking out in cold sweats with her head pounding.

 

She had immediately stripped down to her compression shirt and underpants upon arriving home, then proceeded to do crunches and push ups to failure. Sweat plastered her hair to her temples as lactic acid built in her muscles, making them burn and feel like lead. She needed to feel something, something to know that she was here now. Something to focus on - the ache of her muscles and the rawness of her throat as she took in hungry gasps of air.

 

But now it was the heat of the water cascading down her back. She was rubbing just above the backs of her knuckles, alternating hands, where she had the names of her parents tattooed. It was in their mother tongue; no one spoke it anymore, not since the nuclear explosion that had sent Russia into an unsurvivable nuclear winter. However select traditional mafias, such as the one that her parents had been unfortunately affiliated with, continued on the language. So little of the human population spoke it that it hadn't been included in the universal translator. All the script that she had on her body was cyrillic, like a little secret only for her understanding: the prayers and hymns that her mother sung her, their names and little promises, all in their dead mother tongue.

 

Her exhaustion had finally caught up with her, and she turned off the stream of water and slipped into a night shirt.

 

She padded over to the mirror and stared at the stranger that was her reflection. Even though weeks had passed, she wasn't used to her artificial green eyes, she missed her bottomless brown ones and wild mop of blonde curls. But holding onto the past was dangerous, she couldn't carry it anymore. She sighed and toweled off the short red locks that determinedly stuck up at odd angles and made her way over to the mattress that lay in the middle of the floor. It was covered with a nest of pillows and blankets. When Nihlus had stayed he had mocked her, saying that she was more of a nesting turian mother than an assassin. Ex-assassin, she had corrected.

 

Suddenly overcome with exhaustion, both physical and emotional, she flopped onto the pile and fell into a dreamless sleep.

 

The alarm of her security system alerted her to the fact that there was someone standing at her door. She woke with a start, pulled back to the land of the living. She pulled up the video feed on her omni-tool that she had synced up to the cameras outside her apartment door. Standing there was Garrus, awkwardly shifting his weight from foot to foot.

 

She quickly scuttled over to her wardrobe, that was occupied more by guns and ammo than actual clothing, and pulled on some leggings. She then made her way to the door whilst trying to comb her hair into obedience with her fingers, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

 

Using her biological signature to open the door, she revealed Garrus, who was uncomfortably looking around.

 

“Hey!” They both greeted each other in unison. Their synchronisation emitted a chuckle from the both of them, and Shepard ushered the looming turian into her apartment.

 

“Can I get you anything?” Shepard asked as she made her way into her kitchen. Turning to look at her visitor, she found him studying her space. She was suddenly very aware of her piles of empty booze bottles and full ash tray next to her couch in an otherwise empty room.

 

“Still waiting for your stuff to come from earth, Shepard?”

 

Shepard let out a huff and opened her fridge to stare into the almost barren appliance. “What is it with turians judging my interior design?” she muttered into the fridge as she grabbed a spikey blue fruit from the uppermost shelf. “Nope, this is all my stuff. Do you want this? I have no idea what it is but I do know its dextro,” she said holding out the fruit. Nihlus had left it behind one day and she'd been too intimidated by it to find out what it was.

 

“Why do you even have... that...” Garrus asked, his voice trailing off as she watched his eyes trace up her bare arms, taking in her scars and stick-and-poke tattoos that nearly covered them.

 

Shepard cleared her throat. “I had a friend staying with me for a while. They helped me with some home security, you know, in case the killer comes back here,” she said. Shepard placed the blue thing on the counter and moved to a draw to get knife for the fruit. “You can ask. I don't mind.”

 

“What, no, I...”

 

“Garrus. I know you want to know. Really, I don't mind,” she interrupted, placing the knife on the chopping board before she stepped closer and held out her uncovered arms for his inspection.

 

He delicately took her right arm in his hands, to softly trace the puffy, purple scars that raked across her forearm and up to a tattoo of a red rose. “Hmmm, so... what are they from?”

 

“I had a fist fight with a yahg.” She watched his expression go from amused to very concerned within a few seconds.

 

“Shepard... you're kidding right?” Garrus asked. She heard his sub-harmonics make a rather strange sound.

 

“Nah, I had a friend cash in a favour and that involved hand-to-hand combat with a yahg,” she said. “But it was fine. Totally fine,” she said sternly, with a bat of her hand.

 

Garrus grunted, then moved his gloved fingers up her arm to a tattoo of a red rose. She bit down on her lip, realising that she would have to skirt around the truth for that. It was the Red's brand. She still hadn't told Garrus anything about her past other than vaguely mentioning that she grew up on Earth. Thankfully all he did was gently brush his taloned thumb over the tattoo, not asking for a backstory.

 

“Do you have many tattoos, Shepard?”

 

“Yeah, I try to keep them covered at work, you know to maintain uh... professionalism?” She looked up at his face trying to gauge his interest, and from the way he was studying the rose on her flesh he seemed pretty interested. “Do you want to see the other ones?” she asked, voice light.

 

Garrus looked up at her, and his eyes seemed to pierce straight through her. She had never really noticed how blue they were. “Sure.”

 

Suddenly dumbfounded by her sudden fascination with his eyes, she held up the backs of her hands. "What language is this, Shep? Its not translating. Though maybe you've just got terrible handwriting.”

 

Shepard snorted. “Ha, ha. I'm not surprised, its Russian. Pretty much no one uses it.” Garrus looked at her as if he was waiting for her to elaborate. 

 

“Uh, well, my parents were from Russia, a country back on Earth. There was a nuclear disaster that made it uninhabitable, so a lot of people died or just moved, and people stopped speaking it, no longer having a physical connection to their culture. But my parents did and I grew up speaking it. Now I just speak English or Mandarin, which are the two most common languages on Earth, and they're recognised by the universal translator.”

 

Garrus' face was unreadable and he soaked in the information. “What do they say?”

 

“Питер and Наталия. My parent's names.” His thumbs were rubbing her tattoos just like he did with the rose. He wasn't wearing his gloves and she could feel the soft suede of his skin.

 

“And this?” he asked, moving towards the base of her thumb to cover a thin circle with a small dot in the middle.

 

“Orphan, that I trust no one.”

 

“Oh... Shepard.... I'm so sorry.” Garrus held her hands in his, the warmth of his large hands encasing her smaller ones. His grip was getting so tight she could feel her bones starting to grind.

 

“Hey, it's fine big guy. It happened when I was a kid, I moved on. I treasure the time that I had with them and that all I can really do. So really, don't worry about it,” she said with a tight smile. 

 

She moved over to her pantry and called over her shoulder, “How about a drink?” She held up a big bottle of amber liquid and another filled with clear, a faded label beginning to peel off the second bottle. “Grab some cups, they're in that cupboard over there,” she said, gesturing with a nod of her head.

 

They moved over to the sofa that sat in the middle of her other wise empty living room.

 

Shepard curled up on the couch, tucking her feet under her as she took a swig of her drink straight from the bottle of vodka. Garrus sat down next to her; his frame was too large for her small couch but somehow he managed. She watched him read the label of the whisky and his brow plates shot up.

 

 

"May I ask why you have top shelf turian whisky?" 

 

 

She smirked. "Like I said, I had a friend staying. Anyway did you have a particular reason for coming over, or could you just not bare the thought of not being close to your favourite human?"

 

 

Garrus shifted in his seat and snorted. "Nope, strictly business, and you should be so lucky to be my favourite human. Um, right. Chellick is working on this illegal arms dealing case and there are some traders that seem to be regulars at a bar here. And since you are new to C-Sec and well... attractive... he thought that you could go in as a patron to try and get close to them and see if you can gather intel."

 

 

"Riiight. So I just have to charm my way into an illegal weapons ring and hope they don't catch on that I'm C-Sec."

 

 

"Uh, yeah. Pretty much."

 

 

"One thing though, I can't dance for shit unless I'm drunk. And my drunk dancing, oh boy, it's like I'm a stripper on Omega."

 

 

Garrus choked and spluttered on his mouthful of whisky. "Oh, uh, well I guess you'll be able to get their attention." 

 

 

Shepard snorted and raised an eyebrow at him, but couldn't stop the soft chuckle from escaping her lips. Then silence filled the space between the two, and Shepard sighed and sunk deeper into the couch. 

 

 

"As a kid if you told me that I would be working in C-Sec and about to go undercover in a club I would have laughed you out of the room." 

 

 

Garrus let out a chuckle in response. "What did you want to be as a kid?"

 

 

Smiling gently, Shepard remembered watching the Alliance soldiers from her cell window. She had wished she could join them, she could already fight and shoot and she was so good at it; the Reds had worked her to the bone. Her mentor was a ruthless block of muscle who made her practice hand-to-hand combat day in, day out. She had been a small child, forced to fight her six-foot mentor. It had been hard, but she would always be fighting someone bigger, for that she was thankful. She had been shown no affection by them, but the hits that landed began to feel like kisses. 

 

 

"I... I wanted to be an N7," she whispered softly.

 

 

"Why didn't you? You would have made a great soldier!" 

 

 

"I brought it up with my... my caregiver one day and they gave me this." She pulled aside the strap of her shirt to reveal a puckered scar from a bullet underneath an eight pointed scar at the edge of her collarbone. "They said 'traitors to the family get shot, are you a traitor, child?'" she said, putting on a thick accent to mimic her former employers, and laughed bitterly. 

 

 

"So that dream ended before it started. What did you wanna be?" Laughter was in her voice as she poked his hip spur with her foot.

 

 

He cleared his throat. "A Spectre... that dream isn't really dead." 

 

 

Shepard's eyes widened. "Garrus! Then do it! The person who was staying with me is a Spectre, I'm sure he would put in a good word for you -- hell, he might even train you if you ask nice."

 

 

"My father... he, uh, disagreed with that idea," Garrus said. "I mean, he didn't shoot me, but he made it abundantly clear that he wanted me to follow in his footsteps at C-Sec."

 

 

Shepard's gut dropped. She knew Garrus' father, and when she'd known him he wasn't with C-Sec. "Garrus, just talk to him. I think you can change his mind. Just talk to him, make him listen, but listen to him too."

 

 

"Shepard I really don't--"

 

 

"Garrus, trust me. Please? Just talk to him?"

 

 

He grumbled and took a deep skull of his drink. “Okay. Anyway who is your Spectre friend?”

 

 

“Nihlus.”

 

 

Garrus sat up very straight and turned to Shepard, the sudden movement startling her. “Uh… I take it you've heard of him?” she asked. Garrus let out a slightly strangled sound. Shepard put down her bottle, realising that she had drank a bit more than she had intended, and her mind swayed. She moved to her knees and looked at Garrus, reading the telltale signs on his face, and a manic grin stretch her lips. 

 

 

“Oh my god you have a crush on him, don't you? Okay I am going to call him right now and I'm going to set up a meeting for you," she chuckled to herself as she brought up her contact list on her omni-tool.

 

 

"Shepard! No! Don't!” Garrus yelled, tackling her to the floor to stop her.

 

Shepard was pinned under him, though she held up his shoulders but was blindsided by his blue eyes. Shit she loved those eyes. Get it together Shepard, now is not the time. With a smirk she brought up her legs so they rested on the front of his thighs, and she couldn't help but notice his breathing quicken. Shepard winked, and then slammed her feet down on his thighs so she could slip out from under him as he crashed to the floor. Acting quickly, Shepard then hooked her thighs around his neck as Nihlus picked up her call.

 

“Hey Nihlus, it's Jane. How are you? What I can't call my oldest friend without a reason? Okay, okay jeez... I just wanted to know when you were gonna be on the Citadel next? I have a friend who would really love to meet you. Two weeks? Wonderful, see you then. Bye!” she said sunnily.

 

She smiled down at Garrus who was struggling to get out of her thigh grip of death. Taking pity, she softly stroked his fringe and released him. “See that wasn't too bad now was it?”

 

Garrus groaned. “What did he say?”

 

“He'd love to meet you! He then mocked me relentlessly for having a friend,” she replied. Shepard smiled at the happy hum of sub harmonics that Garrus emitted as he lay on the floor, despite the fact that he was still rubbing his neck.

 

“I seriously think I have been underestimating humans when it comes to hand-to-hand combat.”

 

Shepard laughed and let out a colossal yawn. “I'm gonna go to bed now I think. You know still recovering from...” she trailed off, loosely making a gesture with her hand to the back of her neck. She let out another yawn.

 

She noticed Garrus eyeing her and the empty vodka bottles littered about the apartment critically. “Yeah... should you really be drinking?”

 

“Oh please, vodka is made from potatoes and potatoes are vegetables so it's practically good for me.”

 

“You worry me.”

 

“Aw, I didn't think you cared,” she grinned. She then stood up and stretched. “C'mon, lets go to bed. Since you've been drinking, you're welcome to stay.”

 

“Thanks, I'll take the couch.”

 

Shepard stared at the seven-foot turian in front of her, and then raised an eyebrow at him. “Don't be stupid. You can take the bed with me. I promise not to jump your bones while you sleep.”

 

After much grumbling and mockery of Shepard's excess of blankets and pillows on Garrus' part, he ended up passing out in her bed after minutes, limbs everywhere as he let out a loud dual-toned snore. Shepard let out a soft chuckle and curled up on the edge of the bed that hadn't been taken up by the oversized turian. She let herself smile, she actually really enjoyed having Garrus around.

 

Maybe having friends was actually kind of a nice thing.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in this chapter we meet the killer that was mentioned in the second chapter so if creepy stuff isn't your jam maybe don't read this chapter?  
> also this was a bitch to write for some reason but i think i'm happy with how it turned out in the end :)

The vents were home. The vents were safe. The feel of the cool metal of them on his flesh was familiar and what he loved. The touch of the steel of his scalpels and saws was an entire different feeling. That... that made his stomach knot up in desire.

 

He had always lived in the vents. Duct rat. He was older than all the others who lived in them. All of them were children. Mostly orphans who had no where else to live but the vents. They were out of the way in there. Some lived without anyone knowing about them and then died in there from the fans, from starvation or suffocation.

 

The map of the ducts that he had in his head kept him safe. He'd lived in the vents for over a decade. He knew where there was exposure to the vacuum of space and where to avoid the sharp, sharp blades of the fans.

 

He shouldn't be able to fit in them because of his age, but he just didn't grow anymore after his eighth birthday – and he was small to begin with. He was lucky. He needed to run away and the vents were perfect, no adult could ever fit in them.

 

He didn't really know where the fascination came from. He just started taking the steak knives from the kitchen from before he lived in the vents. He liked touching the sharp blade and the cool caress of the serrated metal.

 

He didn't mean to do it (yes he did), he just wanted to know what would happen (he knew what would happen). The touch of the knife did made his belly feel funny. Finally his curiosity (desire) took over and he couldn't help but run the blade over the soft skin of his arm. His mother screamed and took him to fix the gash. He didn't cry, he was overwhelmed with joy.

 

He didn't mean to (yes he did). That night after his mother had gone to sleep, he got the knife and crawled into her bed. She didn't wake. He took the edge of the blade and ran it across the thin skin of her throat. Her eyes opened wide, she tried to scream but no noise came out, just a hacking sound as her lungs filled with blood. He had watched with wide eyes. Watched as she stopped convulsing and her body cooled and turned grey. The blood was everywhere. 

 

He knew that he would be punished for what he had done. He gathered nothing but his favourite knives and unscrewed the vent cover in the the wall and climbed in.

 

He didn't know if anyone came looking for him. It didn't really matter. The vents were his home and that was all he needed.

 

The other children in the vents were scared of him. He knew he didn't look like a normal human, that’s why Mother kept him inside all the time. Sickly, doctors said. Pale. Skinny. Out Of Shape. Wrong.

 

He liked to torment the other children. He'd pick off the sick ones and chop them up. He would giggle with joy when he dumped their bodies into the Citadel's waste pipes, licking his fingers clean of their blood.

 

He had been wanting to move away from the children. They were boring. Too easy. He wanted a challenge. He had been planning: stealing anti-septic, bleach. He had found a drug that he could put in their water (the water they rarely found and would always, always drink) and knock them out.

 

He had started spending his time watching people through the vents in their apartments, trying to pick the right one. One day he found him. He had a thick silver scar right down his back.

 

Sick fascination took over, he wanted to feel the rough keloid under his fingers, he wanted it.

 

It took some planning, watching the man, watching him begin to twitch with paranoia. Learned his habits, then figured out how to drug him and what he wanted to do with the body.

 

He had found a compound that would sedate the person. In a med centre he'd broken into he'd found venom from an Earth snake that would jellify the blood so there would be less liquidy mess left over. He liked the mess, usually. Not this time.

 

He had a vision (oh it was beautiful). He was going to see exactly what his lovely man was made of! He was going to take off his skin, his beautiful scar, take the muscle off the bone and clean the bones and lay them out so he could watch him always though the vents of his ceiling, his form there for him to watch.

 

It was beautiful. Even better than he had imagined. He stayed in the vents watching for five day cycles before someone found his masterpiece. He even stayed to watch C-Sec take away his man. They did a tidy job of storing the flesh and bone, he almost didn't resent them for taking away his creation because of the care they took, almost.

 

He went back weeks late to look at the apartment. Just to relive the memory.

 

He was just thrilled at what he found when he looked down through the vent.

 

A large turian was standing with a human. A human with hair like fire, was covered in jagged scars and markings.

 

Oh this was beautiful!

 

The turian was tracing the scars with his talons – oh how he envied him.

 

Suddenly he realised. This was a gift from the gods, for his art! He had to do it again, or it would be an insult.

 

He was going to kill the scarred woman.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry to anyone who is actually reading this i have been dealing with a lot of life stuff and i'm kind of struggling to write this even though i love writing it

Garrus woke up alone. He was used to waking up alone, so this was nothing unusual; then he realised where he was. The surroundings settled into place as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and looked at the shockingly white walls of Shepard's apartment around him. Shepard was not in the bed with him, so he stretched out the cramps in his limbs. To some extent he was happy that she had risen before him, he had never been good at morning afters (not that he had many of them, and not that Shepard and he had even done anything that would cause an awkward morning after). 

  
He sat up and hung his head in his hands as a wave of nausea washed over him. How much had he ended up drinking last night?  
  
He forced himself out of her human bed, pushing away pillows that had given him a crick in his neck due to the lack of fringe support. He staggered out of Shepard’s bedroom and found himself half heartedly snooping through her open closet as he passed it. What he saw stopped him in his tracks: Jane had a very large collection of knives, but what caught his attention was the battered black widow rifle leant up in the far corner, partially hidden by shadows.  
  
He marched into her living room suddenly sobered from sleep. "How the hell did you manage to get a black widow those things cost a... fortune..." he trailed off.

 

She was hunched up into a ball on her knees in front over her oversized window, softly whispering. Realising that he had interrupted Shepard from... praying? He blurted, "oh crap, sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt!"  
  
Shepard turned around to face him, her face was unreadable. "You're fine, you weren't interrupting."  
  
Garrus felt awkward and moved to the cream sofa that faced the window in front of them. "I uh didn't expect you to be the praying type," he muttered.  
  
Jane's brow furrowed. "Hmm, well not so much praying more just talking to anyone who's listening," she said. Then her face brightened with a thought and she snapped her fingers. "Like how Turians pray to the spirits, I just pray to the universe I guess."  
  
Garrus hung his head in his hands once again trying to get rid of the dull throb of his head. The faint rustle of Shepard's shirt alerted him that she was up and moving.

 

 

"Anyway, enough about spiritual beliefs, it's far too early for that," she sighed. When Garrus looked up again she was standing in front of him his a glass of water and a pill.

 

"For your head," she explained. The flooding light from the citadel illuminated the fire of her hair, making it look as though she had a halo, like the human angel he’d seen in old, beautiful artwork. She was close enough that he could see the faint little freckles that graced her cheekbones, the emeralds of her eyes glittered for the first time since he met her. "The Black Widow was a gift of sorts. You jealous Vakarian? I can almost see you turning green with envy."  
  
Garrus shifted in his seat, straightening his posture eager to take the chance to brag about his sniping skills. "Yeah, I was the top ranking sniper and hand to hand specialist when I served in the turian military," he said proudly.  
  
Shepard snorted and sat down, leaning back on her hands as she stretched her legs out on the floor in front of him. Her t-shirt sagged at the front, revealing more scars and a tattoo of a dagger that was made to look like it was slicing through her throat. Her tattoos fascinated Garrus, as turians couldn't really get tattoos other than their facial markings, which to an extent didn't really count. The tough hide between their plates would probably not take the ink well and the fact that the any skin that was soft enough was only located in the most sensitive places made Garrus shudder at the though of getting ink there.  
  
"I bet I could take you easy, Garrus," she teased. Her teasing words brought him back from studying the marred and decorated skin of her chest. Her cheeks were pink, something he noticed happened when their eyes met or when he noticed her studying him from across their C-Sec office. "We should spar some time it could be fun to kick your ass some more," she said, nudging his foot with hers playfully.  
  
"I dunno sweet little Janey, I don't know if you could handle all of this, I might puncture your delicate human flesh." His mandibles pulled into a smirk as he gestured to his entire person.  
  
"Ooooh, I think you might be all talk big guy, I handled you pretty well last night." Her rose pink lips pulled into a smirk. Garrus' mouth went dry as dust as he remembered how easily she pinned him down, despite how little she was.

 

"I was distracted!" he shot back.  
  
“Ah yes, by the opportunity to get to meet the handsome spectre of your dreams."  
  
"Oh please, how would you even know if he was attractive by turian standards?"  
  
A toothy grin spread across the little redhead’s face, revealing her blunt, too white teeth. He watched as she made a show of raking her eyes up his body. "I know an attractive turian when I see one."  
  
"Trying to make me blush Shepard?" he jested back, internally cursing himself for flirting back. He wasn't into humans, he had strictly only been with turians. (Why was he doing this and why was he actually kind of into Shepard, despite her somewhat shady background and species?)  
  
She let out an exaggerated sigh. "I guess I will have to keep trying till it works,” she said.   
  
Garrus let out a chuckle that sounded a lot more stilted than he was intending. He was fortunately saved from more of Shepard's flirting as their Omni-tools let out twin message alerts. Both brought up their holo-screens and began to read a report that the coroner had sent about a break through with their vic. They had been struggling to find the cause of death since the body was found; no chemicals or poisons were pinging, so no leads were there to be followed.

 

Until now.  
  
The coroner had detected a venom of a long extinct snake that was native to Earth. Apparently it was only available from one place on the citadel: a small, recently-opened lab owned by a salarian scientist who had a reputation for being rather eccentric and experimental.   
  
"I... I know this guy. He's an old friend he helped me with my amp. He's eccentric but he wouldn't do this. I think we should check in with him before we jump to any conclusions," Shepard mumbled. Her brow was furrowed, and she was gnawing on her bottom lip unconsciously – she was clearly concerned about this guy, and she clearly knew him well enough to immediately question their intel despite the fact that all signs indicated that this salarian was their number one suspect.  
  
Garrus looked up at her, once again trying to measure her past, which seemed to get more complicated and confusing with each new piece of information about her that was revealed. Why would she know some fringe, experimental doctor? And why would she trust them over the C-Sec pathologists?  
  
There was so much mystery behind this human, so many things that he thought he had figured out and then she would do something that would just debunk all his theories; especially since she had mentioned knowing his father last night. His father was retired detective who lived on Palaven with the rest of Garrus' family, and Shepard had said that she had never been to the citadel before. So how did she know his father? Garrus didn’t get the sense that she was lying, didn’t know why she’d lie about it, but something wasn’t adding up.  
  
But no, he was getting off track. He wondered if he should trust Jane’s judgement of the salarian doctor. How and why would this salarian have such a deadly, near-extinct poison, and how the hell did he get it into the citadel? Plus, in Garrus’ experience, eccentric scientists in any field were just serial killers waiting to happen once they got desperate or in too deep.  
  
"Okay, I think we should check in with him and get his security footage if there is any," Garrus acquiesced. He had a lot of questions about Shepard, but he didn’t question that she was a good person, and a good detective.  
  
Shepard gave a solemn nod. "Meet you at the precinct in two hours and we can go from there?"  
  
Garrus nodded and stood up, his head swimming again. "Might be best if we make that five hours,” he groaned. “How are you not hung over?  
  
Shepard chuckled and lay back on the floor. “I'm Russian."  
  
"I have no idea what that is supposed to mean, Shep. See you later."  
  
She waved to him and threw her arm over her eyes as he left her apartment, shutting the door behind him. Maybe a scalding hot shower would make things a little clearer.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry i took so long with this chapter

The pair met at C-Sec, then went to check in with Doctor Solus at his lab in the lower wards.

 

The lab was dingy and conditioned to the nth degree. Soft musical whispers made there way to the detectives' ears though shelves of samples and data. The two shared a wary glance and they stepped further into the lab.

 

"Doctor Solus?" Garrus' voice echoed in the cold room. 

 

Jane moved in peering at specimens as she called out "Mordin? It's Shepard..." She twitched slightly as she past by a jar containing some sort of bodily tissue bobbed ever so slightly. She looked over her shoulder at Garrus who was also eyeing jars with caution. 

 

The pair reached the back of the lab where they found the salarian hunched over a microscope, bathed in harsh florescent lighting that was emitted by a bare bulb.

 

"Ah, Shepard. Was meaning to get in touch with you for follow up on biotic amp. Was expecting no problems because I did it. But that is not why you are here. Personal matters can wait." Mordin had turned to face the detectives awkwardly looming at the edge of the rows of shelves. 

 

Garrus stepped forward. "Yes, Doctor Solus, we are here to inquire about a venom that was found in an autopsy of a recent murder victim. Our sources show that you are the only person stocking it on the Citadel and we were wanting to know if you have given other access to the venom." 

 

Mordin straightened, tapping a finger on his chin. Moving over to a pile of crates muttering under his breath. "Venom from Daboia russelii. Only venom in possession that has potential to kill. Victim human? Doesn't matter. Was going to run tests, but didn't get a chance. Ah Ha!" The salarian pulled out a data pad and a small tin box. Shepard looked over at Garrus and raised her eyebrows in question, and brushed past him to look at what Mordin had retrieved. 

 

"Should be in here. Haven't had chance to look through crates since delivery. Order and delivery information on this datapad." 

 

Taking the datapad from Mordin, Shepard began to skim through the order emails. The scientist had only had the venom in his possession for a month and a half, around about the time the murder had taken place. She handed the datapad over to Garrus who read the correspondence between the salarian doctor and the specialist back on earth. 

 

Moving towards Mordin and the small tin of vials that he was now rifling through. "So Mordin, is it there?" He let out a sharp exhale.

 

"Problematic. It is not."

 

"Shit. Mordin. Look, I know you and I know you wouldn't do this to an innocent, but its not looking good. Does anyone else have access to the lab? Or could have accessed the lab when you weren't here?"

 

"Surveillance footage. Will supply footage since venom has been in possession. Will prove innocence? Possible theft?"

 

"Yeah that would be great Mordin. Ping it thought to Garrus and I and we will go thought the footage." Shepard turned to Garrus who was skeptically looking at a jar of Gods knows what. She the turian a nod signaling they were good to go. As they walked towards the exit he grabbed her arm gently and lent towards her.

 

"Are you sure you have everything we need? I mean you were right he is giving us full cooperation and seems innocent, but you are getting a gut feeling that something is off too, right?" Garrus asked under his breath. Shepard had to admit that the lab did giver a good old fashioned case of the heebie jeebies, she just put it down to Mordin's eclectic collection of specimens. Thinking back on it she had the feeling she was being watched the entire time,something she was somewhat used to feeling due to being monitored her entire childhood - but this. This was different. 

 

She gave Garrus a tight lipped nod of agreement. Just as the were at the door Doctor Solus called for Garrus. "I'll wait outside" Shepard said absently as she moved on. Knowing Mordin he was about to give Garrus some sort of medical advice that was going to invade his privacy and probably make him do his awkward little foot shuffle that he did when he was nervous. It was adorable she thought as a warm smile grew on her face.

 

Oh no. She thought Garrus was cute. She was into him. Shit.

 

She didn't really know what to do about this revelation. Maybe going deep undercover in C-Sec wasn't the best idea. She knew she should have gone and lived in the Tuchunka ruins like Wrex had told her to. She had met the bounty hunter on one of her hits. They were going to kill the same person and fought through their hit's guard together, it was the first time she had ever fought with someone else and she had greatly enjoyed the krogan's company. Accidentally she had revealed that she was doing this against her will and he had said to live in the ruins as a joke but right about now Tuchunka sounded a hell of a lot better than being stuck with a partner that she was madly crushing on. 

 

Said partner stepped out of Mordin's lab looking positively flustered and walked straight into Shepard. "Whoa there big guy.' Shepard staggering to regain her balance after being freight trained by a seven foot turian. "You okay? If Mordin tried to give you medical advice just know that he did the same to me when i first met him." she finished with a chuckle. 

 

Garrus raised a brow plate. "Do I even want to know?"

 

Shepard sighed and cringed. "No. No you don't." She patted his armored shoulder and walked off to the skycar internally weeping over the thought of going through all of Mordin's surveillance footage. Maybe they could rope C-Secs new intern, Aluri into helping them. More eyes, less footage per person. It would also keep her from being alone with Garrus, which was probably a good thing so she wouldn't oogle him.

 

____________

 

Jane had managed to get Aluri the energetic asari maiden helping them. Shepard actually enjoyed her company, the intern talked a lot and liked teasing Garrus just as much as Shepard did so it made the time they spent watching Mordin's cc tv footage go fast. 

 

So far their efforts had been fruitless. All the footage was mostly of the scientist hunched over a microscope or at his terminal. 

 

That night was when things began to fall into place. 

 

Aluri was doing a dramatic narration of everything Mordin was doing which had Shepard in stitches. 

 

When their laughter subsided Aluri spoke. "Hey so Shep... You and Garrus? I see the way you look at him." She gave her tattooed brows a waggle. 

 

Shepard stiffened. Had she been that painfully obvious? She had thought she had been discreet with her pining. "What about the way I look at him Aluri?" she replied with a curt raise of a manicured brow. 

 

The asari's eyes blew wide. "I didn't mean to overstep! I just... I just see how comfortable you are with each other and I... I well..." She hung her head in her hands and muttered. "Oh Goddess. Me and my big mouth."  

 

Licking her lips and clearing her throat Shepard continued. "I didn't mean to be... uh... abrupt. I just. I'm just not really good at the whole." Shepard made a vague hand gestures. "Romance shindig. I don't even know if he likes humans." Shepard finished softly. "I just didn't realise I was being so painfully obvious." 

 

"No! It's sweet. You should go for it, you both seem really happy together." Aluri went on. 

 

Shepard made a non committal "Mmmm." As she continued watching  Mordin's security feed. 

 

Just as Aluri was about to continue talking Garrus walked into their small office. 

 

"Hey I got sushi. Crap. I think i got all drextro. Are you sensitive?" He said with a turian wince. 

 

"Ugh are you trying to kill me G man? Dextro is the worst." Aluri huffed pausing her vid. 

 

"I have an iron gut. Hand over the goods." Shepard extended her arm in Garrus' direction and wriggled her fingers. 

 

"You take over I'm out." Aluri said happily stretching and winked at Jane as she left the room. 

 

Garrus sat down looking out after Aluri. "What was all that about?"

 

"Ugh. Forget it. Damn kids." Shepard replied waving her hand in dismissal. 

 

"Jane she's double your age." 

 

"Yeah, yeah whatever." She said through a mouthful of food.

 

"Oh shit!" Shepard violently gripped Garrus' cowl and pulled him over to her vid screen. 

 

The pair watched as a emaciated pale figure littered with purple, puckered scars lowered it's self from a vent in the ceiling of Mordin's lab. 

 

Garrus madly scribbled down the time stamp on a napkin. 

 

The two continued to watch the childlike figure drop down and move over to the crate that had contained the venom.  

 

The figure rooted around until it found the vile it was looking for. Fingers too long and too thin  for their frame held up the vial in front of its contorted face. Eyes that looked like nothing Shepard had seen before reflected back into the camera. It turned back to place everything back where Mordin had placed it and scrabbled back up into the vent. 

 

"Did... Did that really happen. Did you see it's fucking eyes! They were glowing."

 

"Yeah. I don't know what to do about that." Garrus muttered, his breath tickling the back of her neck. He smelt like metal and gun oil and his voice when he talked softly made her stomach flutter. 

 

 _So not the time._  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (also my beta has been busy and hasn't given this second pair of eyes and i haven't proof read this so apologies for any mistakes) (and i hope i wrote mordin ok??? and i added an intern because??? im sure c-sec has annoying interns???)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey so I'm not dead. Sorry this took so long my life has kind of been a shitstorm and then my laptop broke. But here is a long ish update i will try to be better with regular posting I promise.
> 
> (also I refuse to believe that the fashion choices in game are a thing. I think turians would wear clothing in the style of say ann demeulemeester or yohji yamamoto for example).

Smoke coiled delicately above her, slowly but surely making it up into the vent.

 

She wasn't really meant to smoke in her apartment, but lets be real, she didn't care and she really needed a smoke. Or a packet.

 

She wasn't sure how long she had been laying on her floor for. There was a lot of shit going on and during her time off work she never really knew what to do with herself. Her life seemed too normal. Her job was steady apart from the weird case and her sudden ridiculous, stupid infatuation with her partner. It was unnerving being so… ordinary now.

 

And then there was Garrus. Honestly. What was she doing letting her emotions get the best of her? It was selfish. She could never give Garrus the relationship he deserved, yet here she was thinking about what the unplated flesh of his neck would feel like under her fingers.

 

She let out an angry exhale of smoke through her mouth. The huff disrupted the soft curves above her and blew them out into a haze.

 

What if Garrus found out about her past? Shepard knew in her gut underneath all her naïve wistful thoughts about them being happy together that he would reject her on his moral ground. Killing civilians (if her hits could even be classed as that) was not something Garrus would look past to focus on her award-winning wit and personality. Garrus knowing of her past would put him in danger; the assassin lifestyle was brutal and she would never want to subject him to that -- to her.

 

She though about Damyan. Would he be looking for her? When she was younger and tried to run from the Reds they always found her, although she had never managed to get this far off world before. Lately she had been waking in cold sweats from dreams where she would find his hulking frame sitting in her apartment. Waiting so he could strike and kill her or worse, take her back and make her work for them again by force.

 

That was the worst part of her dreams. The trigger word... the slip from her own mind and into the Asset's.

 

After her first refusal to carry out a hit, Damyan had orders to condition her with a trigger to put her in a malleable trance. After the trigger had been spoken she was at his disposal, blind obedience to any order. In this state she was only referred to as The Asset. The Reds no longer saw her as a person - but as a weapon. The heads always left Damyan with damage control after she came out of her trance. The cold spy never showed any emotion as he pumped her with benzos to calm her, never showed emotional support. She did begin to harden but, sometimes there were shimmers of memory from her trance, things that made her feel sick.

 

Shepard took a long drag on her cigarette and stubbed out the butt in her overflowing ash tray. Her eyes settled on the vent. If only she could get her hands on the vent... thing. Maybe beating something up would soothe her anxieties. She hadn't really been putting in her full range of expertise into cases. Sure, she and Garrus were closing more cases than all of C-Sec combined but she could be doing better. On her travels around the Citadel she had found that kids lived in the vents, she knew that they probably knew of the weird vent creature, but Garrus hadn't brought them up as a potential lead so she had stayed quiet.

 

She brought up her onmi tool's contact list and scrolled through her contact list. Her finger hovered over Aluri's name. She knew the young asari would leap at the chance of field work; Shepard could get her to check out the kids and see if they knew anything. Everyone liked asari. Aluri was a hell of a lot less threatening than a seven foot turian and a busted up looking human with more tattoos and scars than actual visibly unmarred skin.

 

Then realisation hit her. She was meant to be at some C-Sec end-of-the-month-lets-get-drunk drinks celebration at a small bar. She groaned and rolled onto her stomach. Hopefully her presence wouldn't be missed.

The faux backstory and resume that she had commissioned from the Shadowbroker had been detailed and extensive. There was no way that anyone could link Jane and Olesya together, (not that there was any real evidence that Olesya existed to begin with) but Shepard noticed that her presence made some people at C-Sec uncomfortable. Sometimes even Garrus, who was the closest thing to a best friend she had ever had looked at her like he was borderline afraid of her. Other than fleeting comraderie with people she had met along her travels, like the young asari Liara T'soni who had taken over role as Shadowbroker when Shepard had killed the previous one, she made people uncomfortable. They didn't trust her. Sure it kinda hurt, but she was pretty busted up looking and kind of dead inside so who could blame them. There was always that awkward transition period where the new kid doesn't know where to sit in the cafeteria because no one likes them, right?

Letting out a sigh, she crawled onto her knees and doubled over, whispering a quick prayer to her parents. They prayers started as a child's way to bridge the gap from having a loving family to being kept in a concrete cell that grew moss around the small barred window. Now it was more of a habit that seemed almost childish. Just like her idiotic crush on Garrus. Her lips grew into a snarl as the turian invaded her thoughts again, and let out an angry growl as she punched the floor with a fist. The whole situation was juvenile.

She needed a drink. She moved into her kitchenette and looked for an open bottle and mostly found empties.

Letting out a groan at the sight of the piles of bottles she gathered them up and sent them down the recycling chute in the wall. It struck her that there was fair chance that her drinking was becoming a problem. She had already had a bottle of wine that morning. Her biotic metabolism made it hard for her to stay drunk, and being drunk was a hell of a lot easier than being sober.

"Well, Shepard, the first part of recovery is admitting you have a problem," she said to herself. Shepard pouted into the half empty bottle of beer as she raised it to her lips.

She flopped down onto her couch and resumed staring at the vent.

After a moment she became restless and dug around the side of the pillow she was seated on and retrieved her butterfly knife that she had forgotten to retrieve when it had slid down there. Her hands began flipping the knife in forms of various tricks that she had learned over the years, all for show. None of them were actually practical for battle but they made her feel impressive, so what the hell.

Her omni-tool pinged, the alert told her that there was someone at her door. Flicking open her CCTV footage that Nhilus had installed for her she observed her visitor. To her surprise it was Vakarian - she could only just make out it was him through the fuzz of pixels by his facial markings.

"What are you doing here?" she muttered softly to the footage, raising a brow.

Flicking her knife closed she sauntered to her door and palmed open the lock.

"Hey, how can I help?" Her trademark smirk came through in her voice as she leant against the door frame. She smirk dropped slowly from her face as she took Garrus in. His towering form was covered in a black tunic that hung in soft drapes off the sharp edges of his body and the usual leggings that most turians donned in public. Fuck, why does he have to be so hot. She met his eyes, blue glaciers that looked down at her in amusement.

"Um, you look... nice," she said dumbly, instantly cursing herself. She really needed to get over this big dork of a turian.  
"Yeah. One of us needed to be fully dressed, and I doubt the citizens of the Citadel could keep their hands off me if I was just in my underwear," he replied. Bravado oozed from his voice as he shifted his weight and crossed his arms. Shepard snorted in response, determined not to be caught off guard despite being caught in her small briefs and tank.

"Ha ha, Vakarian. As if you walk around fully clothed in your own home when you're not expecting visitors." She stepped aside for him to enter. "What do you want anyway?" She pulled off her robe that hung from a hook near her bathroom. She wasn't self conscious of her body by any means but the way Garrus was pointedly avoiding looking at her bare thighs and midriff.  
"Well, you didn't show up at the bar so I thought to myself 'Garrus, who is going to insult and tease you while maintaining a calm and detached attitude?' so I thought I'd come and get you," he teased. His gaze returned to her now that she was covered up.

"Yeah. I forgot... sorry. Did I miss out on much?" The feigned regret in her voice was good enough that eagerness appeared in his, like he still had hope that he might be able to drag her along to the rest of it.

He sat down and reclined on her couch, trying to reattain his cool demeanor. "It's hardly started; Bailey and Chellick are still sober and the elcor karaoke hasn't started, so... there's still time."

"Oh joy. My two favourite things. You know me too well," she said, crossing her arms over her chest as she quirked an eyebrow.

Waving a hand with and aloofness that only Garrus could attain after being flustered such a short time earlier he ordered, "Get dressed. It'll be fun."

Jane repressed a groan. She hated that this turian made her want to drink in public. That this turian made her forget all the training the Reds drilled into her head; to be vulnerable in a crowded space, for making her want to be intoxicated (if she couldn't get drunk... maybe they had ryncol) in a crowded place, vulnerable in a crowded place, with him.

She bit her lip. "I dunno." Avoiding him was the right thing to do. The safe thing to do. "I have kind of settled in for the evening."

"Shepard. Its five pm. It's too early to be settled. Live a little, you can have fun sometimes you know."

She snorted. "Says the turian."

"Everyone has to blow off steam sometime."

The subvocals in his voice rumbled in a way that she could have sworn had suggestive undertones.

"Fine. Okay." She moved into her room slightly out of his sight and began to dig around in her closet shaking her head.

"You're going to fix your hair too... right?."

She moved back into his sight giving him a flat look. "That bad, huh?"

Garrus looked as sheepish as a turian could manage.

\--  
Garrus would be lying if he said he hadn't been talking in Shepard's form the entire time they were making their way to the bar.

It was the first time he had seen her out of her c-sec uniform, well aside for the one time he went to check up on her and she was in her pyjamas. Neither did her justice. His heart almost stopped when she opened her door for him. Her whole body was thinner than he expected, sure he knew she was strong, but the way her body lacked protective plaiting and some of her bones were visible when she moved he almost wanted to hold her and keep her safe because she looked so small and fragile. But if she ever found out he thought that he knew she'd kick his ass.  
When she (unfortunately) got dressed she came out in tight pants that slung low across her hips that revealed the deep V of her pelvic muscles and the same strappy top that she wore when she greeted him.  
She clapped her hands together and rubbed them. "Okay lets get this show on the road!" Moving to a closet she opened it and pulled out a black blazer and shrugged it on, covering her delightfully muscular arms. Shepard must have noticed him watching her because she caught his eye and shot him a wink that made his heart stutter in his chest.

She strutted over to him and threw an arm around his waist and they walked to her door. "Wait shit!" Shepard scuttled back to her kitchen and returned looking sheepish and held up a small box. "Can't forget the smokes"

When they did finally leave her apartment her arm did not return to Garrus' lower back, much to his displeasure.

 

The bar had picked up in pace since he had left. There were now people out on the dance floor drunkenly laughing and flailing their limbs in time to the thrumming bass of a pop song an enthusiastic asari was singing a long to on the small stage for karaoke.

Twisting their way through the crowd and made their way to the bar to get drinks and meet with their colleagues.

Garrus had to admit that as pleasing as it was to be with Jane in public it was weird seeing her in that kind of setting. Her guard that she always kept up that was as strong as a krogan’s charge was starting to slip. He watched her freely converse, hollow eyes now twinkling. She kept close to him, their arms periodically brushing, she would meet his eyes and her cheeks would go pink, then she would quickly avert her gaze and smile into her drink.

What happened next was surprising; not only because this was the first time it seemed like Jane might actually have friends... or even an acquaintance at best, and the fact that a heavily tattooed, rail thin woman broke an unsuspecting Shepard’s nose as her fist collided with Jane’s face.

“You fucking asshole!” the thin woman yelled, her voice thick with tears and emotion. “You could have at least told me you were alive, I was so fucking worried!” Her bony fingers cupped Jane’s face in such a way that made Garrus’ stomach flip in envy and crushed their lips together in a passionate kiss.

Finally the pair broke apart for air, Shepard wiping the clots of blood from her nose. Noticing the stunned silence from the C-Sec group she licked her lips and started to guide the woman away.

“Not here, Jack,” she whispered. Her gaze locked with Garrus’ and with pursed lips said, “I’ll be right back.” She walked with the woman – Jack - until they were out of sight.

Aluri and Chellick moved towards him still watching where Jane left.

“Did you know she had a human girlfriend?” Chellick asked, his voice slow and confused. “Or that she was... Suspected as dead?”

“Nope.”

Aluri spoke next: “Yeah I thought she was into turian men, not humans.” She gave a suggestive waggle of her tattooed eyebrows as she bumped her shoulder with Garrus’. He felt his neck flush. So he wasn’t imagining her interest in him and the fact she had been acting a little more chummy than usual.

“She can like who ever she wants to,” Garrus grumbled with a shrug. He took a deep drink, silently agreeing that he thought she was into him. There was a prolonged silence then his friends left and he saw that Shepard was making her way back to him, with blood clotted around her nose and a small smile when their eyes met.

 

“Hey,” she settled on the stool next to him. “Sorry about Jack, I uh, kind of forgot to tell her that I was leaving for the citadel and she over reacted.” She gave a meek grin and gestured to the bar tender for another drink.

Garrus nodded, wondering if he should ask if she and Jack were romantically involved just to soothe his sudden jealousy or if maybe he was better off not knowing. Although she did come right back to him. He was over thinking this.

“So is she your long lost lover or what?” he taunted adding a smirk to re-establish the joking nature of their friendship. Jane choke on her drink.

“You mean Jack!? Fuck no! God, I mean there was one time but that was years ago and...” She screwed up her face and shook her head. “She kissed me because that’s just how she is. See.” She gestured to her right with a nod, Garrus followed it to see Jack enthusiastically making out with a large alliance marine.

“Ah I see. And the gratuitous violence? Another Jack thing?”

Shepard laughed. “Yeah, another Jack thing. She’s a good kid though. Crazy strong biotic, she taught me a lot and now she’s teaching kids at some academy. She’s come a long way since I met her.” She looked up at him under her lashes. “I’m single - no long lost lovers for me.”

Just as Garrus was trying to think of how the hell to respond to that Jack threw herself between them, draping her thin arms around his and Shepard’s shoulders, squeezing them together.

“So Jane you fucking have to serenade your boyfriend here. Gotta treat this sex on legs right? am I right ladies?” she said to no ladies in particular. She leaned into Garrus’ personal space and he nervously shifted under her arm. “Seriously she has the voice of a goddamn angel, an if you hurt her I will fuck you up, my guy.”

The stench of alcohol and cigarettes came off her breath and Garrus removed her arm from his shoulders and responded dryly, “I believe you.” Jack winked and sauntered off.

Shepard had her head in her hands and mumbled, “I am not singing.” And you also did not deny that I am your boyfriend, he gleefully added in his head, even though there was little to no romance in their relationship – other the painfully bad flirting. Unfortunately for her Garrus knew C-Sec and he knew how to make her sing; good old fashioned peer pressure.

“Sing!” he yelled, thumping his fists on the bar. “Sing!” he said a little louder a smirk growing on his face as the credit chit dropped and her head slowly turned to him.

“What are you doing.” Her voice was light laced with faint worry.

Bayley came over to them and asked who was going to sing. Garrus replied smugly that Shepard was and the next thing she knew she was pushed up onto stage by a mob of her work mates, all of them chanting along with him. Sing! Sing! Sing!

She glared down at Garrus and cleared her throat after awkwardly looking around for a few seconds. “Uh this is a really old earth song. I hope you like it.”

_"Call me angel and take my hand,_  
_Wishing you could be my man_  
_But I can tell if it's truth or lies_  
_When you've got bourbon in your eyes"_

 

Spirits, her voice was already husky and sultry but some how it was amplified when she sang, and it sure as hell didn’t help that when she caught his eye she winked at him.

 

_"Tell me something that I don't know_  
_Then I dare you to prove it so_  
_I'd ask you to try this on for size,_  
_But you've got bourbon in your eyes"_

 

The crowd loved her, almost as much as he did. To say he was enamoured with her performance was an understatement. Their friendship had come a long way since their stilted smiles and awkward silences on the job.

But this.

This didn’t feel like friendship anymore, not to Garrus. Sure he had had many flings and stress relief during his military days with male and female turians the alike, but, fuck, he wanted to wine and dine her.

Crap. He was terrible at this.

At some point she had stopped and was sitting next to him again. “Yeah you aren’t half bad I guess.” She snorted in response. “Thanks big guy.” Slapping him on the back.

A jaded looking bar tender who looked like they would just rather be at home nudged Shepard an handed her a shot of what smelt like actual ship fuel. “From the krogan over there. Want my advice? Don’t drink it, it will knock you on your ass.” But Shepard being well... Shepard looked over at the krogan, chucked back the drink and blew them a kiss. The bartend grumbled and walked away.

Chellick moved over to them “Sheppers! Didn’t realise you were so soft under all that asshole.”  
Snorting she shifted to glare him down, cheeks flushed with liqueur. “I could knock you on your ass in seconds, sweetcheeks.”

A sharp yet playful laugh escaped him. “Try it bean sprout.”

The corner of her mouth twitched. She was quick. So goddamn quick. A swift punch was delivered to his auditory cannel, an elbow hit the sweet spot on his chest where there were smaller plates were located and the air was knocked out of him. Her form moved out the corner of his eye, her foot connected to the back of his knees and he was on all fours. Straddling his back she whispered by his head “Told you.”

She stood up and held out her hand to help up the turian helping him up. “Shit kid. You’re so small how’d you do that?” She had taken her place back at Garrus’ side and gave him a shrug.

The bartender let out a sigh, “Please don’t get blood on the floor or I’ll have to kick you out.” They went unheard and muttered “I need a raise.”

“You have to teach me how to do that, Jane. That was great.” She leaned into him and scooped her arm around his neck bringing herself close enough to pressed her mouth to his. Garrus heard faint cheers in the background but all he could focus on was her soft lips moving against his mouth plates, the floral smell of her skin. He wrapped his arm around her waist although with the height difference of him sitting on a bar stool and her standing his hand fell on her ass.

He felt her lips quirk up into a smile, breaking the kiss she rested her forehead on his in a turian kiss. “It’s a date then.” With that she backed away with a big grin and left the bar leaving Garrus at a loss for words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going t have shep sing this fics namesake wandering star by portice head but it didn't seem right for the chapter (lyrics are from bourbon in your eyes by devil doll)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I took so long with this my health has been shit and so has my motivation. But I have a lot planned so stay tuned and thank you for sticking with me.

At the beginning of their shift, a discussion about stress relief ended up resulting in innuendos of _reach_ and _flexibility_.

  
The pair hadn’t discussed where they stood with each other after Jane kissed Garrus, they had carried on as usual, but with lingering touches and hands brushing when they walked side by side. There was talk going on about them amongst their co-workers, and it seemed all were rooting for them. C-Sec didn’t have strict rules about romantic relationships in the work place or other types of fraternisation, as long as it wasn’t interfering with work productivity. So when Garrus did mention that she owed him a date she happily obliged him… well, in her own weird way.

  
She told him to meet her in a small gym in the early hours of the day cycle where there was generally less people to blow off a little steam before her undercover assignment for Chellick. If this was going to be a date she absolutely wanted it to be with as little audience as possible. There was no way she was going to embarrass herself in front of anyone other than Garrus in regards to her horrific flirting skills.

  
She wasn’t surprised when she found Garrus was already there, punctual as ever. Making her way over to the large workout mat she bit her lower lip, trying not to smile at the sight of Garrus. He was doing some sort of yoga, one leg stretched out in front of the other, arms adjacent to his legs. She wasn’t going to lie to herself, he looked elegant as hell, all long toned limbs, eyes closed, breathing deeply.   
But yoga, really?

  
Loudly dropping her duffel bag beside him she slapped the palm of her hand to the underside of his.   
“Hey handsome, come here often?” she asked with a smirk.

  
“I was having such a great time before you got here,” he shot back with an exaggerated sigh, not bothering to open his eyes to look at her. Giving him an unseen pout Shepard moved to his side and bumped her hip against his thigh, when his stance and expression didn’t budge a wicked grin appeared on her lips. Garrus was wearing a loose version of turian track pants with holes ripped in the leg for room for the spurs, and no shirt. To take advantage off this she silently moved to his other side and softly ran her fingers up his unplated waist.

  
Garrus let out an embarrassing yelp and jumped, hitting Jane right across the face with his elbow off balancing her and making her fall heavily on her ass. Shepard let out a cackle at the deer-in-the-headlights look on his face, so she kicked his feet out from under him so he would join her on the floor.

  
Garrus winced at the red bruise blossoming on Shepard’s cheek, cupping her chin to turn her head so he could get a better look. “I’m so sorry,” he apologised.

  
The corner of her mouth quirked up into a smirk. “Not your fault I bruise like a peach.”

  
She slid over her duffle bag to him. “I thought we could do some hand-to-hand but with extra danger because nothing says friendship like trying to kill each other with serrated steel.”

  
Garrus looked in the bag and did his best not to gawp at the large collection of knives varying in size from a penknife to the size of a large omni-blade. “Well damn Shepard. In turian culture sharing your favourite knives is a really big step in a relationship. I didn’t know you felt so strongly.” Her eyes widened in shock then faded to a look of exasperation. She smacked the upside of his head lightly.

  
“You’re such a dick.” She dug out a small dagger. “You fight with knives much?” Garrus gave a small shake of his head as he adjusted the way he was sitting to get a better view of Shepard as she was flipping the small blade around in her hand.

  
“Generally people just use omni-blades, actual knives are almost seen as... well, _archaic_.” Garrus’ voice dropped off towards the end hoping not to offend his friend.

  
Giving a hum she looked thoughtfully into her bag and passed him a slightly larger dagger. Well it looked larger in her hands at least, but for Garrus it looked tiny. She reached over to him to help correct his grip and indulgently made note of the texture and warmth of his hands.

  
“Back on earth there are still some really rough areas from the war. Technology is kind of stunted too, so we still use knives and guns with bullets,” she explained with a shrug. “As you say: archaic.”

  
Garrus blinked. She never talked about earth. “You mean your guns didn’t have heat sinks?” he asked carefully trying to probe for more information.

  
She snickered. “No. We weren’t that sophisticated yet, we didn’t have medi-gel either. Had to stitch people up manually. Didn’t you learn about this shit in school or something?” she said evasively, her hands finding his again to readjust his grip.

  
Life on earth wasn’t brought up again, but time passed with the ease of frivolous banter. Shepard showed Garrus simple knife tricks that had no practical use other than looking impressive.

 

  
A smirk grew on her face as she made eye contact with him. “So, wanna fight?” she asked, letting out a giggle at the terror that grew in his eyes. “We can do hand to hand, save the knives for next time. I’ll even pull my punches if you like.” She winked and got up to stretch.

  
Garrus tried to regain his composure. “Shepard, please. As much as the thought of you with sharp objects is uncomfortable, unarmed you are not so much of a challenge,” he drawled. Shepard mocked offence in reaction and held out her hand to help him up. Her hand was small and soft in his yet she managed to yank him up so hard and fast he almost overbalanced.

  
“You are going down Vakarian,” she said, a feral grin taking form on her face as she looked up at him. Garrus just laughed at the scrappy human who barely reached his chest.

  
“The only reason I will be going ‘down’ is to get on your level,” he laughed.

  
He was then promptly struck with a sucker punch to the jaw.

  
Garrus staggered from the blow, shocked at how much strength the little human could pack into a punch. He looked back at her standing there in a defensive position. She raised her eyebrow in challenge.

  
“Talk shit get hit.”

  
Garrus gave a few tentative swings not wanting to break her skin or bruise her like before, but then began to feel comfortable knowing that she sure as hell knew what she was doing. The way she dodged his blows was fluid as if she was dancing. Her own blows were made with surgical precision, she knew all his weak spots. Between her laboured breaths she panted out, “stop pulling your punches, I can take it.”

  
Garrus threw a few more punches and managed to displace her footing and wrestle her to the ground pinning her.

  
Frowning up at Garrus, Shepard blew some fly away hairs from her face. “Show off” she mumbled as he tightened the grip on her wrists that were pinned above her head.

  
“Looks like I win.” Garrus said, his voice giving a thick rumble of pride.

  
An exaggerated expression of deep thought crossed Shepard’s face, she sucked in air though her teeth.   
“Yeah I wouldn’t bet on it buddy,” she said. Her face softened into a small shy smile and leant up so kiss him gently on the mouth. She lifted them with her biotics, flipping their bodies so she could straddle his waist. “I love it when you think you’re right,” she said looking down at him fondly.

  
“I always knew you were a top, Shepard,” a voice came from behind them. Jane looked over to see Nihlus walking towards them.

  
Shepard clambered off Garrus and hauled him up to his feet. “Why Nihlus! I never knew you thought of me in that way. All those times I drank all your booze and crashed with you half naked and you never once made a move!” she said, putting an extra sway in her hips as she sauntered over to him. “And to what do we owe this absolute pleasure that is your presence?”

  
“Just the normal intentions anyone would have coming to a gym: working out,” he said, but then his bravado left as suddenly as he had entered. “Actually while I have you I need to tell you something.”

  
The sternness of his words spoke volumes.

  
“Oкровавленный,” she murmured. He nodded. She bit down on her lower lip and turned to Garrus who was looking at her, his ice blue eyes boring into her knowing there had been a shift in her mood. “Give us a sec,” she said, forcing smile as she dragged Nihlus over to the other side of the room.

  
She ran her hands through her hair. “Just tell me he’s not on the Citadel,” she said, her mind going a mile a minute thinking of escape plans that she had been planning the minute she felt too settled.

  
“I got word from an informant on Omega that he has been seen there. But look it could be nothing, Damyan could just be there for business,” he said his thumb wiping a tear that had no right to be running down her cheek. She shook her head, there was no way he would be doing dirty work anymore, he was a handler now.

  
“Thank you. Look I should get going, I need to get my shit together before I do this undercover thing for C-Sec tonight and-“

  
“Wait you are actually working cases now?” he asked, his face a mix of amusement and concern.

  
“Well it’s my job dumb-dumb. I’m a good detective,” she replied, her normal snark coming back into her words.

  
“Does he know anything about you know... _Them_?” he asked, nodding in Garrus’ direction.  
“Oh fuck no. I mean he suspects me, I can feel it sometimes in the way he looks at me. I just. I don’t wanna lose him,” she admitted. She looked back at Garrus, who had gone back to his yoga, his eyes closed in and body in an elegant pose.

  
“Oh spirits,” Nihlus said, rolling rolled his eyes, something he most certainly picked up from her. “You have fallen in love with him!”

  
She opened her mouth to disagree but closed it when Nihlus gave her a flat _I Know You Are Going To Lie To Me So Don’t Even Try_ look, and she gave a defeated nod.

  
“Look. He’s amazing, he’s a smart ass, hilarious and as sharp and a dagger – and you know how sharp I keep my daggers,” she replied, licking her lips, trying to get past showing emotion. “And it would mean a lot to me if you had coffee with him tomorrow. I’m pretty sure it would make his year and he wants to be a Spectre so you know.” She gave a shrug. “Also I’m pretty sure his father was Secret Service or something.”

  
“Sure, and how the hell would you know that?”

  
“He may or may not have seen me kill someone when I was eleven. But look I have to go,” she said abruptly, turning away. She left a gobsmacked looking Nihlus and went to Garrus and kissed his mouth. His eyes flew open.

  
“Hey I had fun but I have to handle something. I’ll see you later tonight at the precinct?”

  
He pulled her in and gave her a slow kiss as best he could. She couldn’t help but melt into his touch. “I had fun too. Hey are you ok?” he said tilting her chin to see her red rimmed eyes.

  
“Yeah ‘m fine. Also hey I set up coffee for you with Nihus tomorrow. Told him you wanted to be a Spectre.” She slapped what he has of an ass. “So go get ‘em tiger. He might take you on for training,” she said with a smile, walking off leaving Garrus wondering what the hell a tiger was.  


 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I have been absent, I have been going through some shit. Thanks for sticking with me and an extra special thanks to Tricksterity for being my beta i couldn't do it without her.

Garrus found Jane in the workroom, sitting in front of her terminal wearing a long wig with large brown curls that framed her face. She was staring into a compact mirror, carefully gluing something to her eyelashes. Human and asari beauty habits were widely advertised yet it always dumbfounded him with the amount of stuff they smeared onto their faces. 

 

Shepard started to fill in her pillow-like lips with red from a tube and rubbed them together to redistribute the colour, her lips curved into a wicked grin as she looked at her reflection. Suddenly, maybe he got it. 

 

He realised watching her from afar was kind of creepy and settled into his chair, opposite her, throwing an arm over the back of it. She looked up at him and the air left his lungs. He didn’t have a human fetish but _spirits_ , she was stunning; her eyes were artfully smoked with black making the green of her eyes look like a precious stone, and her lips, oh those lips. 

 

Her voice pulled him back to reality, just as he was thinking that he liked her hands better when she didn’t have her tattoos covered with makeup. “Do you ever think about the keepers? Like really think about them? Like what’s going on there?” she mused.

 

He chuckled. “I guess I just got used to them and kind of never really thought about them. Don’t tell him I told you this, but Bailey tripped over one once and just as it melted he slipped and face planted. It was incredible.” Shepard’s face lit up and she threw her head back in laughter.

 

“Dumb self-destructive bugs,” she cackled.

 

A silence softly fell between them as she went back to making sure her eye makeup was to her standard. 

 

“You, uh, look really nice, Shep.” he blurted out. _Smooth, Vakarian_. She didn't seem to mind, though, as her cheeks swiftly flushed pink. 

 

“Thanks, G,” she murmured, bowing her head slightly. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear in an endearing manner. She cleared her throat and stood up, shrugging off the big hooded jacket revealing a short, clingy black dress that covered all her scarred, tattooed skin. She seemed to immediately lose her normal edge, and she appeared almost demure – as much as one could in such a skimpy dress.She walked over to him in sky-high red stilettos, her calves curving nicely in them. And other areas too.

 

“Zip me up?” she asked, turning and gesturing to the open zip, bundling her hair into her hands behind her head so he could reach it. He moved to her and ran the knuckle of his forefinger down her spine. Giving a soft sigh she leaned into the touch. 

 

Eyes following the zip as milky skin disappeared behind fabric, he caught sight of marred flesh at the base of her neck, normally covered by the collar of her shirt or her hair. Scars were nothing new on Shepard’s body, he knew that much, but this wasn’t like the others. It was a brand. The flesh was still an angry purple, shot through with scarred silver like it had never healed correctly, and the letters were the same strange alphabet as the rest of her tattoos. She froze under his touch as she felt him pause. 

 

“Shepard…” he breathed.

 

Flinching way from him like she knew what he was about to ask, she sat back down, pointedly avoiding eye contact. 

 

“It’s nothing.” 

 

Or more nothing that she wanted to talk about. But it was clearly _something_ and nothing good at that _._

 

“Jane,” he tried again.

 

“We gotta go get briefed by Chellick,” she snapped, voice icy, and Garrus could feel her frosting over just like at the beginning when she would shut down whenever her personal life was brought up. It hurt - he thought they were closer now.

 

//

 

The assignment itself was easy enough. 

 

Chellick originally had a contact in a bar listening out for specific intel but human Spectres (and power couple) Kaidan Alenko and Ashley Williams had intervened. They’d said it was too dangerous a mission for an untrained informant, especially one with family, and so he’d decided to bring the assignment to Shepard. The human had undercover experience and had displayed that she was very capable of making herself look like another person, and he just hoped that she was able to grift her way into getting close to Jax. 

 

The two of them arrived at the door to his station, and Shepard pulled in Vakarian almost intimately close, speaking to him so softly that Chellick couldn’t pick up everything she said, only bits and pieces. Something about telling him something later. 

 

Trying to avoid the awkwardness, Chellick looked down at a data pad and tried to give them space.

 

Vakarian nodded and cupped her cheek, murmuring something in reply. Chellick really wished he didn’t have to deal with this. The pair were almost joined at the hip. They sauntered in, footsteps synchronized to each other, and they didn’t even notice. Shepard spoke first. 

 

“So how do you want to play this?” she asked.

 

Chellick brought up a video feed of the bar his target was in, and zoomed in on a human. The pair watched over his shoulder as he hovered a talon over his face. 

 

“He’s is our way in,” he explained. “Shepard I need you to get his attention, his interest, a meeting with his boss. I trust that you know enough about guns to bullshit your way into making him think that you’re a serious buyer. I trust that you read up on the file I sent you.”

 

“Yes sir,” she replied with a nod. “Done.” 

 

A frown flickered across Vakarian’s face as he looked over at Shepard. “Should you be armed for this?” 

 

She gave a little smirk that seemed to convey clearly that the mere concept of that was adorable. “I have my biotics, I should be fine,” she said, bumping shoulders with Vakarian. “And I have you guys as back up anyway, so don’t worry.” 

 

“We’ll keep visuals here and keep in contact through comms,” Chellick added.

 

“Gotcha,” she threw out behind her, already on her way out of the office, sending a sloppy salute and a wink in Vakarian’s direction. Chellick sighed heavily.

 

//

 

The thing Garrus hadn’t considered was Shepard having to flirt with someone who wasn't him. He kept waiting for the jealousy to bubble up inside him he watched her dance on screen to the thumping bass of the club. She danced intimately against other patrons, eyeing up the target from across the room, got in closer to people than she normally did. The jealousy never came. The fluid sway of her hips, the breathy giggle that floated over the comms - it wasn’t her. He didn’t have anything to _be_ jealous of, because he was looking at… someone who wasn’t his partner.

 

That, and the real Shepard could barely move her body in a way that was considered dancing.

 

Pride bubbled in him remembering the first time he saw her _really_ dance after a night of drinking in her apartment. The jerky awkward movements had made him double over in laughter. No one else on the station had seen that, Jane being carefree and herself, and she had let _him_ see that.

 

This was… not that. 

 

Chellick’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Is being a biotic a requirement to be an Earth cop?” he asked from the next desk over.

 

“She never mentioned,” Garrus replied. “I think her biotics emerged in her youth. Maybe she got an amp through school or something. I’m not sure how it works over there.”

 

He got a grunt in response. 

 

His eyes traced Shepard’s movements though the screen in front of him; she had moved to the bar and was nursing a drink with her long legs crossed and dangling from the bar stool she’d perched on. Their mark was making his way towards her like she’d magnetized him. _Damn_ , she was good. She turned her comm up louder and the blaring sound of the club filled the small office where the two turians watched and waited. 

 

The sleaze could almost be heard dripping from the mark’s voice as he sidled up next to her. “What’s a beautiful girl like you doing all alone like this?” he asked. Even Garrus had to shudder, but Shepard remained in character flawlessly, batting her lashes and turning her body towards him. It was like she’d been trained for this – every single thing she did was calculated to make the mark want her, and believe she wanted him back.

 

Shepard gave a throaty chuckle in return, even though Garrus knew she hated being referred to as a _girl_. She was a ‘Grown Ass Woman’, and usually anyone calling her something demeaning like that would be on their ass in a second.

 

“It seems I have been stood up,” she drawled. He watched her pixelated figure lean in towards the mark. Her hand casually slipped from around the glass she’d been holding to the lengths of her hair, and she wound it around one of her fingers coyly. “You, uh, wanna keep me company? I’m awful lonely.”

 

Garrus could almost _see_ the triumph in the man’s eyes as he reached for her arm, gripping her around the bicep.

  
“Baby, baby, come to my booth,” he breathed, leaning in close. It was predatory how the man loomed over Shepard, intentions entirely clear about what he was thinking, and though Garrus had seen first hand how competent she was, he still felt a zing of worry for her. As if sensing it, she smirked up at the camera as the man pulled her up from her seat. She ran a hand down the man’s back and allowed him to lead her over to his booth in the far corner.

 

That tense worry disappeared soon enough after the conversation devolved into Shepard buttering the man up, plying him with compliment after compliment. Watching it was close to boring despite getting to see Shepard the whole time. She just kept complimenting him, and he kept drinking. 

 

“So, what does a guy like you do for a living?” she asked. Chellick got frustrated with the camera angle and switched it to one closer to the booth that had a reasonable angle on the conversation. Shepard reached over to squeeze the man’s bicep – like an impulse decision - then giggled nervously and snatched her hand away.

 

“Oh my god, I just did that, I’m so sorry,” she mumbled, blushing.The guy chuckled and placed her hand back on his arm, flexing under her touch. 

 

“Let me guess,” she trailed off, pink tongue running over her lips before she bit her lower one in thought. “Um, are you… a bodyguard? You’ve gotta be, with muscles like that.”

 

“Man, she’s laying it on thick,” Chellick scoffed. “He seems to be buying it though. Spirits, are all humans this vapid?” Garrus just shrugged and watched Shepard work her magic. 

 

The man chuckled. “Kinda, my work is pretty dangerous though, gotta keep it hush-hush,” he said.

 

Shepard pouted and played with the straw in her bright pink drink. “You can tell me though, right?”

 

Leaning in towards her, the mark checked their surroundings, making sure no one was listening. “I help a krogan arms dealer, not super legal stuff,” he admitted. Shepard let out the most un-Shepard squeal of delight. It was unnerving. 

 

Her hand shot out and grabbed the mans forearm. 

 

“Can I tell you something really dorky? You promise not to laugh?” she asked, biting her lip to stifle the smile that clearly wanted to appear on her face. “I _love_ guns.” In response, the man laughed like she was just having him on.

 

“I’m serious!” she insisted with all the seriousness of a five-year-old girl. “I have a _Black Widow_! you wouldn’t think you could hook me up with some mods do you? Or is that pushing it?” 

 

Garrus let out a snort, knowing how much she loved bragging about that rifle. Shepard’s hand still hadn’t moved on the mark’s arm, and she was now tracing patterns on his forearm, almost idly. Smart girl. 

 

“Does she _really_?” Chellick stammered. “Those things are like two-hundred-thousand credits! At least!” 

 

Garrus just gave a sad nod remembering the time she let him hold it, and then _took it away from him_. It was such a beautiful gun. Almost as beautiful as her. 

 

“That’s a serious gun, princess, whoever got you that must have really liked you,” the mark drawled, and Shepard giggled _again_. “My boss is on the Citadel right now, I could see what we could do. Then maybe I could help you install it?” 

 

“Yeah?” Shepard breathed. “Take me there?” 

 

And that was what they’d been waiting for.

 

“She turned on the tracker on her omni-tool before she left,” Garrus said pulling up the app. “We should leave when they do.”

 

They weren’t really prepared for the meeting to be set up immediately, but Shepard was damn good at her job. There was a few minutes of fumbling as Garrus and Chellick got themselves ready, and they were a few minutes behind Shepard and the mark.

 

Through the comms they heard the krogan boss asking Shepard if she was good for the credits. Garrus and Chellick went to flank them as they entered the room, but another merc saw them closing in. Garrus just groaned as Chellick burst into action. 

 

Garrus saw the man that had been with Shepard raise his hand to slap her.

 

“You fuckin’ bitch,” he spat, face going red in anger. “You’re with C-Sec!” 

 

His hand swung down, and just as his hand was about to make contact with Shepard’s cheek, her whole body glowed purple-blue and she let out the biggest shockwave he’d ever seen a human create. The cascading energy bounced twelve times, knocking over not only the mark and the boss, but all of the mercs in the room. They all landed squarely on their asses, Shepard towering above them all.

 

“Well, that’s one way to do it,” Chellick grumbled. He sent off an alert to surrounding patrol officers to help arrest the group. Shepard rolled her eyes at his attitude as she fit omni-cuffs onto the struggling krogan. 

 

“You’re welcome Chellick, it was a pleasure working with you too,” she drawled, voice laden with sarcasm. 

 

“Yeah, yeah thanks,” Chellick replied, reciting rights to the mercs as other officers closed in on the group, pouring in from every available door. Garrus gravitated to Shepard.

 

“So you can actually flirt when you put your mind to it.” That got a snort from Shepard and she bumped her shoulder to his. 

 

“It was a honey pot, I had to be obvious.” 

 

She turned to him, and with the heels there was less of a height difference between them. The green gems of her eyes shone at him with affection and his heart quickened a pace – surely eyes that green couldn’t be natural. 

 

“You’re not a honey pot,” she quickly corrected, flushed. “I-I want this. I’m just not used to this feeling,” she said softly while taking his hand. It like she was embarrassed to admit that.His mandibles flicked into a smile. 

 

“I want this too, Shepard,” he intoned lowly. Her cheeks flushed pink as she gave him a light punch in the chest.

 

“Good luck with my boy Nihlus tomorrow. He's gonna love you. Let me know how it goes,” she winked as she hailed a sky car. Garrus watched her slip away like smoke.

 

//

 

Shepard woke to a sharp pain coming from her left hand.

 

Fuck, her head was pounding. She tried to open her eyes but it just seemed so hard, like her lids were weighed down. 

 

Ice crawled through her, settling in her gut, and a flood of memories from her childhood came rushing forward. This was painfully familiar. Shepard _knew_ this.

 

Olesya knew this.

 

Visions of being drugged and dumped in a cell rushed through her mind, then the beatings that followed mission failure or less than optimal performance. 

 

The Reds had found her.

 

Hot tears ran down her cheeks from closed eyes. Her breathing stuttered and she couldn't open her mouth to gasp in air. All training – play unconscious, break your bonds, fight free, kill if necessary – disappeared from her mind as sheer panic took over, flooded into her veins.

 

Then something pulled her from the depths of her memory, back over the event horizon to safety – the sound of strange scuttling, heavy breathing, and the pain in her hand. A puff of putrid breath tickled her cheek and a hot tongue lapped up her tears. 

 

That sent another chill though her, she felt bile churn in her gut. Her mouth filled with saliva at the anticipation of easily expelling the acid that wanted to come up. She sucked in a breath though her nose, counting to seven then holding it, focusing all of her energy on opening her eyes.

 

The cold touch of metal licked against the sore hand. Her fingernail on her index finger was promptly ripped out.

 

Her eyes shot open as she held back a scream.

 

A pale and twisted face looked down at her, shock written all over its heavily veined, emaciated features.

 

The fucking vent thing they’d been hunting.

 

_Oh fuck no_. After everything she had been through to get here? She was not going out like this. 

 

Anger pulsed though her, blood rushing in her ears. Energy bloomed around her, an aurora borealis of dark matter, and she tried to summon a reave, amp burning her skin and rattling in her skull, muscles screaming and tearing with the effort. 

 

The figure crawled away from her in a way that wasn't human, something that resembled the multi-limbed crawl of the keepers or rachni. The only thing human was the fear in its eyes.

 

The familiar stench of eezo filled the room.

 

All the breath got sucked out of Shepard’s lungs when the energy built up to a critical level and she released the reave.

 

It hit the creature, which writhed as the energy attacked its nervous system, penetrated its bones and veins. Its eyes rolled back up into its head, it shuddered, and it collapsed to the floor in a fragile, angular heap, desperately sucking in final breaths.

 

Shepard squeezed her eyes shut - this was the first time she had killed since she’d come to the Citadel. Something she thought she was past having to do – arresting crooks was meant to be the worst of it. Tears made their way down her cheeks as she lay there, listening to the pathetic wheezing coming from the creature in the corner till there was nothing.

 

It took Shepard a while until she realized that she was still in her bed – still in her apartment. Time got fuzzy, she didn’t know how long she’d been lying there, but hadn’t slept. Maybe she had. She could have dozed.

 

The pool of blood under her hand had coagulated and gone cold. She tried to speak and her voice came out at a phlegmy croak. 

 

“Call Nihlus,” she spoke to her omni-tool. It took a few moments for him to pick up.

 

“Whats up?” he eventually answered. His voice pierced through the heavy tension she felt, lying there alone with the corpse.

 

“Can you please come here,” she all but sobbed. Her voice was so small and pathetic she barely recognized it. “I don’t want to be alone.” There was a weighted pause on Nihlus’ end. 

 

“Of course,” he said.

 

The line went dead and she broke down.

 

// 

 

Garrus had been sitting with Nihuls in a small cafe in one of the smaller wards when Nihlus’ omni-tool went off. 

 

They had been discussing the details of Garrus working with Nihlus to prove his worth to the Council; the hours of field training that he would have to go through would be rigorous but he knew it would be worth it in the end if he could be a Spectre. He couldn’t wait to tell Shepard. 

 

Nihlus was frowning down at the caller ID on his ‘tool, and he ended up patching it through to his personal comm, leaving Garrus in the dark. Maybe Spectre business.

 

When he hung up there was a heavy silence between them, and Nihlus’ mandibles were twitching nervously. 

 

“I think Shepard’s in trouble,” he breathed. “She didn’t say not to bring you so, you can come, but just… I don’t know what you know about her past. This might get ugly.”

 

Garrus was out of his seat before Nihlus had even finished his sentence and was already using his omni-tool to hail the closest rapid transport cab, entering Shepard’s apartment number off by heart. The entire journey he fought to maintain his composure as Nihlus sat stock-still in the cab, like he hadn’t just been told that Jane Shepard – the woman who took down an entire room of highly trained mercenaries in one hit – needed _help._

 

Garrus heard soft snuffling when they opened the door to Shepard’s apartment. 

 

The lights were off and curtains were drawn. The cold minimalism of her apartment, once endearing, now felt clinical with the weight of tension that they felt immediately upon entering. It was the sort of silence one felt like a physical weight at a morgue or hospital.

 

Surveying the small main area of the apartment showed no signs of her; and so they rushed to her bedroom just past her small kitchen. She was curled up in the middle of her bed, smaller than he’d ever seen her, bleeding and tiny.

 

A broken sob left her mouth when she opened her eyes saw the two towering turians in her doorway, and at that moment Garrus’ heart broke. 

 

Nihlus moved to her side and examined her left hand – blood was still sluggishly oozing out of it from a jagged cut across the palm. Garrus promptly moved into her en-suite and began rummaging for medi-gel amongst the sheer amount of things she kept in her cabinets. When he stood he heard Nihlus trying to soothe her rapidly escalating sobs.

 

Nihlus’ hushed whisper could hardly be heard in the bathroom, but when Garrus stilled he could make out some of the conversation. 

 

“Olesya, you’re on the Citadel. There is no way he could have got past our security. He was seen in the Terminus Systems just 48 hours ago, there is no way he could be here. We know all of his identities, aliases and allies,” Nihlus continued softly, softer than Jane Shepard would ever need. “You’re safe. He’s not here.”

 

“I can’t go back, I won’t, oh god oh _god,_ ” a broken sound came from her. “I thought he had me again.” 

 

Garrus’ mind immediately started to turn like a machine, going a mile a minute. Could she be hiding from an abusive ex? That would certainly explain why she was hesitant to speak about her past, and the branding.

 

But no, she was too armed and physically capable to let anyone get the better of her like that, especially with her biotic abilities. Though emotional abuse was perhaps an option. But no, that didn’t seem like it either – Garrus scratched that idea.

 

And then there was what Nihlus called her – Olesya. Was her name really Jane? Was she going to tell him that when their relationship got more serious? _If_ it got more serious?

 

Would she even let them get there? 

 

When he heard their hushed exchange had halted, he moved back and handed to the canister of the gel to Nihlus. As he bent slightly over the bed he noticed something – a pale, crumpled, distorted pile of limbs in the corner of the room, and he jumped back in shock.

 

“Spirits, _fuck,_ what is that!?” he spat.

 

Shepard spoke, though her voice rough from the crying. “It’s that thing from the case. I think it’s human… it was gonna kill me.”

 

He opened up his omni-tool to take a scan of the scene and the neat arrangement of various surgical tools and vials on the bedside table. He sent it off to a C-Sec officer he knew was on duty and flagged it as urgent. Nihlus crossed the room and crouched down next to Garrus, and felt for a pulse on the creature’s body. 

 

“Dead.” Nihlus announced softly. “I’m gonna take her to a hospital, she has track marks and she needs to be checked out, make sure she isn’t going to have a reaction.” Garrus simply nodded in response.

 

“She, ah…” Garrus started, and then cleared his throat when his voice was rough. “She has a friend, Mordin- _something._ Maybe try find him. I’ll take care of this, I’ve got a squad coming in. She wouldn’t want them to see her like this.” 

 

Nihlus scooped Shepard up into his arms with a promise that he’d keep Garrus updated on her condition when he could. Shepard tried to make a joke, but she quickly succumbed to sleep and exhaustion in Nihlus’ hold.

 

An hour later Garrus received a message from Nihlus of a grumpy looking Shepard hooked up to a drip, holding up her middle finger with the caption _she's doing better._ He tried to feel positive, but the general unease of the hustle from the forensics team around him didn’t help.He knew something was off about the whole situation, he just needed to put his talon on it.

 

//

 

Garrus sat on the floor in his apartment just as he had during the late nights he had spent drinking with Shepard. Except this time he was stone cold sober and Shepard wasn’t here and he hated that he didn’t want her here; he always wanted to be with her. 

 

But then again, who even was she? Was Shepard even real or was the woman he loved an act? Just another alias for Olesya?

 

Groaning into his hands, he really wished he knew what to do this whole thing was a mess. He hoisted himself up to his feet and moved to his refrigerator. He caught his reflection in it, and stilled as prickles of realisation poured over him at the blue of his markings.

 

 

_“Do you have an older brother or something?”_

 

_“No?”_

 

_“A father?”_

 

_“Why?”_

 

_“Your facial marking, I feel like I know someone with the exact some ones.”_

 

 

Shepard knew his father.

 

He could kick himself for being so stupid and overlooking that first encounter, simply writing it off as Shepard being an ignorant human.

 

He scrabbled to turn on his terminal on the other side of the room, knocking data pads off his desk in his frantic state. He pulled up a vid link to his dad, hoping that whatever time it was on Palaven was decent. 

 

“Garrus?” His fathers face flickered in the holo as the connection strengthened. “Is everything okay, son?”

 

“Yeah, yeah Dad, I’m fine,” Garrus said, flustered and knowing that he was speaking quickly. “I actually have a question for you.”

 

Confusion was written on his father’s face as he leaned back in his office chair, crossing his arms. It looked as though Garrus had caught him in the middle of the day. 

 

“Really? Usually you don’t care for my answers,” he replied, and guilt panged though Garrus. He shifted under his father’s gaze and cleared his throat. 

 

“Do you know a human called Jane Shepard? Or by an alias, Olesya?” he asked. His father sighed and shook his head. 

 

“Son, I worked at C-Sec for decades. I met a lot of humans, you are going to give me more than that.”

 

“She’s a few inches shorter than Sol with red hair, green eyes, not sure if that’s natural but…”

 

“Identifying marks?”

 

Garrus let out a grunt of a laugh. Shepard pretty much had more identifying marks than bare skin. 

 

“A lot of scars, a few tattoos,” he said. The marred brand on the back of her neck flashed though his mind. “She has a branding scar on the back of her neck. Looks like some human dialect, but it isn’t translatable.” 

 

His father straightened. “Is she about your age?” he asked. Garrus’ heart sped up as he nodded yes. His father sighed and rubbed his talons against his closed eyes, sighing heavily.

 

“It’s… not a story I like to tell,” he admitted. 

**Around 20 years ago**

 

The air was icy and it curled into his lungs. He hated the cold. 

 

But Castis Vakarian had a job to do. 

 

The rift between humans and turians was still raw – _healing -_ but still raw. A radical group of humans had formed after the First Contact War: Cerberus. They had made an attempt on the Primarch’s life and that was not taken lightly. 

 

Elite turian military was sent to solve, and if necessarily, eradicate the problem. With the blessing of the Alliance, of course.

 

The small three-man squad was sent to a rural area on Earth, large sweeps of empty plains dusted with snow. The sun had gone down, but that was no surprise this far up north in the dead of winter. 

 

His team finally found the compound the Cerberus humans were located in. They prepared themselves for a gunfight, for an ambush, but when they stormed the building all they saw were bodies. Castis frowned and signaled for his two squad mates to continue on forward with him.

 

The halls stunk with blood, and the soft sound of a human gun shooting off bullets through a silencer drifted through the walls. Castis tightened his talons on his weapon, ready to engage the target.

 

The team cautiously made their way deeper into the complex, swapping concerned looks as they secured rooms and found bodies slumped in seats or crumpled on the floor as if they didn't even hear the perpetrator coming. How this many people could be killed without anyone being the wiser was… terrifying. Perhaps the Alliance had sent in a team before the turians to take care of the situation?

 

Single bullet holes punctured each body – one to the heart, and one to the head. Classic humanoid double-tap, employed all over the galaxy. Professional. The gunfire in the distance was becoming more spaced out, like the shooter was running out of targets. 

 

They followed the sound till they were met with a large atrium. 

 

In the middle of the room was their target, the leader of this Cerberus group, on their knees with their hands in the air, begging and pleading for their life. 

 

Standing above him, covered in blood spatter, was a little human girl.

 

Castis wasn’t too familiar with human ages, but she couldn’t have hit puberty yet, judging by her height. She wore all black, and there was a shock of bright blonde hair pulled back almost painfully tight into a topknot on her head. It revealed an angry, marred scar at the nape of her neck.

 

She had a gun pointed to the temple of their target, and multiple clip magazines strapped to her waist. Castis wondered why they even made ammo belts so small.

 

The squad moved forward then stalled as the girl raised another gun at them and stared them down. It was terrifying how empty that ebony gaze was in a child so young – dead eyes. Castis had the feeling he wouldn’t get them out of his head in a hurry.

 

Castis holstered his gun, held up his hands and walked towards her, trying to placate her.

 

"We are just here for him - we won't hurt you," he said. Unfortunately the end of his sentence was cut off with a gunshot as the little girl shot their target in the head. His body slumped to the ground.

 

"He was mine long before he was yours," she whispered into the silence, accent thick on her tongue. She holstered her gun and sent out a heavy shockwave of biotics that knocked his squad off their feet. By the time they scrambled back upright, she was gone.

 

“Should we go after her?” One of the men questioned.

 

Castis shook his head, looking at the body on the floor. “The target is dead, what does it matter?” 

 

//

 

Garrus sat quietly in shock as he digested his father’s words. “You never told us you were special ops,” he breathed. “All those times you went away… was it the military?” That seemed to be the easiest thing out of that tale to address first.

 

His father nodded. “I don’t know what your involvement is with this human, but I want you to be smart about this, Garrus,” he said. “She was skilled as a child I can only imagine what she is capable of as an adult - human or not.”

 

“Does Sol know? That you were black ops?” Garrus asked, his mind flicking to his sister, who’d always gotten on so much better with their father than Garrus had.

 

Castis let out a sigh. “No,” he admitted. “It never seemed prudent for you to know.”

 

Garrus snorted and felt his talons twitch. “Yeah, sure, because knowing key pieces of information about your own father would never be prudent,” he spat.

 

“All I ever did was what was best for you and your sister Garrus,” his father snapped. “You think when I was out doing the Primarch’s dirty work I ever wanted you or Solana to know? Especially when you were children? Do you think I’m proud of that?”

 

Garrus held his head in his hands, rubbing the heel of his palm into the cluster headache developing behind his right eye. He murmured an apology and said his goodbyes and promises to visit in a daze. This couldn't be happening.

 

The screen turned off, and he was plunged into darkness.

 

//

 

Nihlus woke to his omni-tool dinging repetitively in his ear, notifying him that someone was at his door. Groaning he got up, untangling his limbs from his sheets and went to see who it was. 

 

He was met with a very flustered, manic Garrus. 

 

Pushing past Nihlus, Garrus started pacing around his apartment and tried starting a few sentences, his pitch getting higher and higher until his voice broke when he finally found his words. 

 

“She’s an _assassin_?” Garrus gasped.

 

“Thank the spirits you finally said something, you were starting to look like an aspirated fish,” Nihlus replied. He took a deep breath and sighed - he needed caffeine to deal with whatever this was. 

 

Grabbing the pot of old coffee he poured what was left into a mug and perched on the armrest on a nearby chair. “Who is an assassin, Garrus?” he asked

 

Garrus looked up from the floor as he paced. “Shepard.” 

 

He stopped in front of Nihlus, his whole body slumped as he murmured _Olesya_ under his breath _._

 

Nihlus cleared his throat and took a sip of his coffee. “Who?” he asked with feigned ignorance. Garrus gave him a pointed look, and Nihlus sighed. 

 

“What makes you think that?” Nihlus asked, and Garrus took a deep breath in like he’d just been _waiting_ for that question.

 

“In 2166 elite turian forces went to handle a botched assassination attempt on earth. They were met with a compound full of dead bodies and a little human girl with their target,” Garrus breathed out quickly, resuming his pacing. “She doesn’t match Shep- her description: blonde hair, dark eyes, but I know humans can change that. But she has the scar and she knows my dad, the timelines match up.” 

 

Garrus stopped in front of him again and studied his face with hurt in his eyes. 

 

“Tell me I’m wrong,” he all but begged.

 

Nihlus sighed and sipped his coffee. 

 

“I only act like I know everything, Garrus,” he replied, mulling the words over. But Garrus deserved to know, especially if Olesya was going to run like he suspected she would. “I haven’t known her for as long and as well as you might think I do Garrus. I know she was under the control of some very bad people for a long time, and she did bad things for a really long time. There were periods where she was left to her own devices after… a mission where they didn’t use her trigger.” 

 

He tried to keep his tone gentle, he could tell that Garrus really did care for her. Nihlus wasn’t adept at relationships that extended past camaraderie, but didn’t want to hurt Garrus. 

 

“Her trigger?” Garrus croaked.

 

“The group conditioned her to respond to a string of words that would put her into a trance of sorts,” Nihlus explained. “She would become unresponsive to anyone but her handler and she was essentially a weapon for anyone to use.”

 

Garrus slumped into a chair facing him. “Fuck,” he spat. Nihlus gave a sympathetic smile. 

 

“She’s gone,” Garrus admitted, head in his hands. “I checked her apartment this morning. It was empty. Do you know where she would have gone?” 

 

Nihlus simply shook his head, knowing his hunch was correct. “She was drilled into never leaving a trace. She is very good at what she does,” he explained. Garrus drooped again, so far that he ended up resting his forehead on the table between them. 

 

“Look,” Nihlus began, putting his cup down. “Oli is going through some things right now, and some really bad humans are after her. They are just as careful and deadly as she is, and even harder to find. They work in small nodes I tried looking for them but…” he trailed off with a shrug. 

 

“She probably thinks that by running she’s looking out for you. Pulling a Houdini,” Nihlus smiled to himself. “That was a human reference.” 

 

Garrus let out a groan. 

 

“Look,” Nihlus said, getting to his feet. “The kid has a knack off turning up at really inconvenient times. We might run into her when we ship out.” 

 

Spirits, Nihlus was hoping this was helping.

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long. This year has been rough. I tried to make this chapter a bit longer than my usual ones to make up for my absence. I hope you enjoy and that it isn't to jumpy, I added more of the og characters as best and naturally as I could. I also don't have a beta so all mistakes are on me sorry (I'd make a shite editor).

Damyan stared down a batarian enforcer till he moved out of the way of a scummy omega alleyway, making sure to make their shoulders collide when he passed. 

 

 

He could only be so frustrated with Olesya. She had disappeared flawlessly, his rigorous training had paid off. Some may say that conditioning a child with hannar assassin training would be against average moral principals. Damyan didn't care. A child was the perfect infiltrator, overlooked, underestimated. 30 years later it would produce a valuable weapon; Olesya. 

 

 

Such a shame about her personality, he couldn't seem to break her enough to get rid of the snark. 

 

 

Her escape had been well timed, the reds had turned to shit after the assassination of Francis. She had faked her death, leaving enough evidence for anyone else to believe it. Damyan knew better. He knew she wanted out but she was too much of an asset to let go, whether he took her back to the Reds or broke off from them hiring her as necessary. He had left Rosco in an emotional mess, it wasn’t his job to pick up the pieces, as long as they had Olesya they would still be respected.

 

 

Omega had been a bust, as had the shady areas of Thessia no signs of Olesya. Her tracker implant had been destroyed before she had left Earth leaving him with nothing. Damyan knew that she had enjoyed Omega and other debauched areas of the terminus system and after months of searching he had come up with nothing. 

 

 

He had infiltrated organised merc group networks searching for mentions of her, assuming she may have tried joining of selling her skills. Again nothing. 

 

 

His jaw clenched, as he continued through the station back to his shuttle, pushing aside the anger that bubbled in his chest he ran through other logical options of finding her. Plan B was to go to the spectres, Williams and Alenko. Humans were soft and emotional. Spiel a sob story of a missing ward who had committed heinous murders and they’d lead him right to her.Grifting wasn’t a skill he had, had to use often, with just a menacing look and what he wanted was his, but this would have to do. 

 

 

 

//

Williams and Alenko make their way though the citadel embassies to get to the Spectre offices which held their personal terminal to send back reports or gather new information on operations for the council or favours that wrangled their way into their inbox. It was their duty to protect the galaxy and sure as shit they were going to give it their all. 

 

 

Ashley once untrusting of other species was now unfazed as she and her lover weaved though the masses, giving polite nods to acquaintances that they had helped or worked with. She wanted to be the best she could, to be strong role model for her sisters, to show them they can achieve anything.

 

 

A small wave of warmth fills her and she bumps shoulders with Kaidan to get his attention and gives him a loving smile when he looks back down at her. Now in the corridor and entering the empty office he wraps an arm around her shoulders and leans down to press a kiss to her temple.

 

 

“Check for assignments then check out new mods?” Ash asked with an enthusiastic wriggle of her eyebrows.

 

 

Kaidan huffed a laugh at her love of weapons. “Yeah, of course” 

 

 

“Eugh,” Ash screwed up her face in disgust when she saw the human supremacist groups name come up in the inbox. “We have a Cerberus recon, seems they have stolen the blueprints for the SR Normandy. Looks like they have one of our pilots working double agent. He managed to send an encrypted report to the counsel and the alliance about what they have been up to, building a bigger better version of it or something.” Ashley cringed as she read. “The cerberus operatives seem to just be soldiers, no command as of yet.”

 

 

 

Kaidan leaned in scanning the screen. “Can we trust the guy?”

 

 

“We don’t have a lot of options. They have whole lot of valuable data on that ship, ours and theirs. We can’t let them have this sort of intel and resources. But I have heard of him, this kid can fly. He was top in his classes in Alliance training, cant see why he'd turn his back on us.”

 

 

“So technically thats makes it Alliance and Hierarchy property and we need to get it back?”

 

 

Ash nodded “Yeah, we get the ship tell off Cerberus the best way we know how and,” and shrugged with a vague hand movement.

 

 

“Okay, add it to the list.” Kaidan sighed as he saw the growing amount of assignments there were and the amount of relay jumps they were going to have to do, gave his amp hell which lead to migraine. Ash gave him a thin lipped knowing smile and rubbed his back.

 

 

They sorted though and prioritised different assignments in order of time pressure and threat level, until they were met with an unusual message. 

 

 

The message was simply titled ‘Please Help’ with a nonsensical array of letters and numbers for a return email address. The contents was a video with a still off a human man with a long, gnarled scar running down the left side of his face.

 

 

“Do you think this is legit? I mean just look at that email.” Ashley said, her tone hesitant, not wanting to discredit someone who may be in need but had a feeling that there was something off. 

 

 

“Thats a VPN from earth… I think.” Kaidan provided as he inspected the networks that the message had bounced though. “We will watch it and see?” Ash nodded affirmative and he hit play.

 

 

The video crackled into life and the rough looking man’s voice rasped; _“My name is Damian Rothman, I would never bother someone of your importance with something as minute as my troubles, but my ward has gone missing._

 

 

He heaved a sigh.

 

 

_I have tried to track her myself, gone though PIs, earth law enforcement but we have no trace of her. I come to you for the sole reason that she is a threat._

 

 

_When I took her in from her parents she was a troubled, violent child - a disturbed mind, they hoped that I may be able to… Tame her inner demons, but she just stayed the same. I managed to keep her from harming people for the most part… But now she is gone and I fear for the safety of others. I hope you can empathise, please, if you can help me find her”_

 

 

He held up a polaroid of an angry looking young woman, dark plum circles rimmed her eyes and a corona of long untamed blonde curls framed her otherwise pretty face. 

 

 

“Man I haven’t seen a polaroid in years.” mumbled Ash, Kaidan grunted.

 

 

“ _Her name is Olesya, she is a powerful biotic, and a brute in hand to hand. Please bring her to me, I can’t betray her parents final wishes for her and others safety, please, try and find my Olesya, she needs guidance and i can’t bare the thought that she might hurt someone and that would completely be on me. Please if you find anything reply to me through this email._ ” Tears were steadily streaming down his face by the end of the vid, his voice remaining deep and husky, no real identifiable accent…

 

“Buy it?” Ash asked, Kaidan gave noncommittal hum. 

 

 

“We can’t just ignore it, just, say we will try our best to look into it but… I don't know something does seem off.”

 

 

“We can run his ID see what comes up.”

 

 

He got a nod of agreement flicking the list of obligations to their omnitools,

 

 

And as she was promised, Ash opened another tab on the terminal filled with elite Spectre armoury. He chuckled and pulled her close knowing that in the privacy of the office there would be no judgement of fraternisation, well not that they were in the Alliance anymore anyway and only answered to the council and knew that Councillor Anderson supported their relationship knowing it made them a strong team. 

 

 

//

 

The dry heat of Tuchanka hit Olesya the second she exited the shuttle like a small inferno. She found it hard to find that the place was once in nuclear winter. “Ah,welcome to radiation hell, we have lukewarm ryncol and all the thresher maws you could ever want.” She muttered to herself.

 

 

The surrounding krogan ignored her, it was a comfort she had missed while wearing the C-Sec uniform, nervous eyes flicking to her induced by the threat of law enforcement, guilty or not. 

 

 

The sight of a scrappy looking human in nondescript clothing, with a big gun strapped to her back was nothing, as threatening as pebble to the citizens of the Urdnot colony. 

 

 

After readjusting the strap of her duffle bag on her shoulder she patted down her pants to locate her crumpled packet of cigarettes. Lifting the smoke to her mouth she lit it taking a deep drag and moved though the docking bay and off to see an old friend about a favour. 

 

 

The colony was just as she remembered, she strolled though the rubble kicking stones as she passed people looking for the big red ex-merc krogan who undoubtedly had risen in respect since trying to bring the clans together. 

 

 

She spied him on a pile of debris fashioned into a throne of sorts, in what looked like a one sided heated discussion. Moving on, she flicking the butt of her cigarette at some blood pack vorcha who sneered curses at her, she went to see if he could help her as she has she had helped him. 

 

 

She smiled recalling the few onslaughts they shared together when she was rambling thought the galaxy without Damyan having reached her yet. 

 

 

Her appearance had changed since she had seen Wrex last. The red had washed out from her hair in patches, leaving some of it her natural blonde with strawberry splotches where it still clung, along with the loss of her long curls. The nanites in her eyes were dying off leaving her with an unsettling artificial heterochromia. In other words, she looked like a hot mess rather than the basic blonde topknot and brown eyes he knew. 

 

 

Two large krogan barricaded her from reaching him,

 

 

“You must wait,” one started, but just as she was about to headbutt him to prove dominance but Wrex must have noticed her.

 

 

The towering red krogan stood “Princess!” He roared using the ironic pet name he had designated her when she wouldn't provide her name upon their first meeting.

 

 

She barged past the two bodyguards muttering if that was a good enough reason to see their leader.

 

 

“Hey old man!” she said with a smirk as they came together giving a firm handshake of solidarity.

 

 

“Heard that someone of your description died, old friend.” 

 

 

“Funny, second time I’ve heard that. Almost like I wanted to disappear.” She winked. Wrex laughed again and clapped her hard on the on the back almost making her stagger. 

 

 

“Well I knew the void couldn’t take a warrior like you, what brings you here?”

 

 

“I… I’m too hot at the moment, I need solace. Can’t have my handler find me. I’ll be in the badlands, I won’t impose. You still got that old mako I stashed here from last time?” 

 

 

“Same spot, if anyone asks, I never saw you.” He leans in closer the smell of burnt metal, gunpowder and overall Tuchanka stench swamped her. “And no I will not ride with you.” She huffed a laugh at the memory of making the krogan sick to his stomach with her sub-par, reckless riding skills.

 

 

She nodded, scoping her surroundings just to be sure of threats and marking quick exits. “Always good on your word, appreciate it. Looks like you have big things going on here? let me know if there is anything I can be of service for.” 

 

 

“I’ll let you know.”

 

 

She awkwardly shifted her weight, rocking on her heels, and licked her lips scoping the area, minding blind spots. “So how is my little boy doing?” Wrex nodded in the direction of a slightly smaller krogan with grey plates rapidly approaching with a amused smile and his rough chuckle.

 

 

She braced for impact, eezo filling the air and her biotic barrier glowing in a haze around her, she charged right back at him.

 

 

The two collided, a large echo of their impact filled the cavern like area. “Battlemaster!” the krogan cried as the two parted.

 

 

“Grunt! малыш моя, you have grown! What have you been doing?” The krogan who towered over her gave a child like laugh.

 

 

“Heh heh heh. I’m running Aralakh Company, a commando unit.” He puffed out his chest in pride as she gave him a playful punch on the arm.

 

 

“My boy, I’m proud!”

 

 

Will you be staying long battlemaster? Could always use your help cracking some heads.”

 

 

She gave a lopsided smile. “Not sure kiddo, gotta keep a low profile for now, but we can shoot things, another ‘maw if your heart…” She paused recalling krogan anatomy, furrowing her brow “Hearts? Truly desire it.” 

 

 

Grunt’s demeanour changed, he didn’t know as much as Wrex about the whole Damyan sitch who knew even less that Nihlus. “Who is after you, we will destroy them.” he said the rage in his eyes apparent.

 

 

Olesya avoided his gaze, flicking her attention back to Wrex who was concentrating on their conversation with a knowing look. “Grunt, there isn’t a whole lot we can do right now. I have to strategise. I’m going out into the ruins after I stock up from Ratch, I’ll find you again in a month or so and I’ll see if i can explain myself.”

 

 

He gave a guttural snarl. “An enemy of yours is an enemy of mine. We have your six.” A stab of sadness ripped though her insides as the phrase Garrus had used time upon time on cases was repeated to her. 

 

 

She gave her now signature sloppy salute goodbye to the two krogan, “Means a lot Grunt. Till next time guys.” 

 

 

Moving down further into the camp, she pulls out her flask and drinks deeply after feeling the buzz lifting. She hadn't stopped drinking since leaving the Citadel. Drinking to her was once just a party thing, a ‘ _fuck you_ ’ to Damyan when he found her black out drunk in an alley on Omega or Ilium, wherever. Not that it did her any good, depending on what showed up on her drug screenings when he got her back helped him decide to show her that tough love that the sadistic fuck liked to deal out, maybe a little too much.

 

 

Now she couldn’t remember the last time she had been stone cold sober. She was functional at C-Sec, as long as she made sure her decisions stuck to her gut and she didn’t reek of booze everything was fine. She wasn’t even sure Garrus noticed. 

 

 

It was getting harder and harder to stay drunk, all the mods in her body; bone, muscle and skin weaves, her amp as overcharged as possible. The amount of cybernetics they had done on her after particularly nasty missions where she had one foot in the void of death and one foot in the land of the living. It almost feel more machine than human, especially with the psychological enforcement of the reds treating her like one. 

 

 

Ryncol was even an option these days, it tore up her stomach with the radiation but they made pills for that.

 

 

Physical pain was better than remembering that Garrus was out there probably hating her, forgetting her. She took a deeper swig until the flask was empty. 

 

 

She grabbed some TVP, that tasted awful but would sustain her for a while as well as water and several gallons of water. She tipped Ratch and petted his varren Urz, who lapped up the attention.She fed him some treats that she had brought from the citadel, also promising to come back and try and get the pyjack infestation under control. 

 

 

Then she set off into the ruins after paying a mechanic for some parts and promising a favour to find something for him if she came across any good salvage out there.

 

 

The decommissioned Alliance mako was the one thing that she had managed to keep secret from Damyan. Someone had totalled it and was about to be scrapped before she got her hands on it and she fixed it up nicely after watching an extranet vid on how to. She was good at learning quickly and enjoyed fixing things, hell she had even been asked to boost cars and sell the parts for the Reds when business was really slow in the early days.

 

 

She continued into the desolate desert till she found a shrouded area under some jagged terrain and went back into the cramped back and started setting up her sleeping area and rationing food and water.

 

//

 

Once Williams and Alenko had finished running around the Citadel like headless chickens chasing up leads, and favours they packed up for their off station missions.

 

They chose a small frigate, knowing that they wouldn't need a ship for battle and needed to be stealthy if to catch the Cerberus crew by surprise. The crew would be small and they extended invitation to recently graduated N7 operative James Vega to come along and be the final part of their ground team who eagerly accepted. 

 

Settling into their quarters on the ship Ash lay down on the bed and pulled up the extranet on her omnitool and Kaidan sat down to respond to emails.

 

 

She was looking at an orphanage website that was based in Canada back on Earth. One Damian Rothman was part of the organisation but the webpage was clunky and outdated. But she couldn’t find a trace of a Olesya Rothman. “Still feels off Kay, but the orphanage is in your old stomping ground.” She said shooting him a smile.

 

 

They were on their way to check out the Cerberus situation anxious to get it over with

 

 

Ash was happy that they had invited Vega along on their escapade, Cerberus soldiers were easy targets and there were no civilian casualties.

 

 

They cleared out the ship as they docked it on a nearby uninhabited planet, asked the civilians if they wanted to work for the counsel and read out the repercussions of treason. They gained a good crew, a sweet quarian engineer on her pilgrimage, an amazing pilot and to their utter shock an artificial intelligence. 

 

 

They reported back to the counsel with their findings after going though the intel that the AI EDI helped them comb though. They even found a lead on the Olesya case. For some reason Cerberus had an interest in her, it had a very short list of her allies; Jack Nought who gave them absolutely nothing to work with when they vid called her. Several names had been redacted apart from the final name: Urdnot Wrex. They looked him up and he had last been seen on Tuchanka but had no contact information. 

 

 

“Looks like we are going to Tuchanka” Kaidan sighed thinking about the incoming migraine from the relay jumps. 

 

 

“Get some sleep Kay, I’m going to see if EDI and I can get though these encrypted files.”

 

//

 

She woke with a start and a sob, nothing new. Various nightmares plagued her her whole life if she could sleep at all. Peering around the mako as she peeled off the cold sweat drenched shirt that clung to her she found her under armour. Checking her omni-tool once pulling on the bottom half of the suit she made sure that the dusk had settled so the heat of the desolate planet was bearable. 

 

 

Climbing into the drivers seat she closed her eyes trying to rid her mind of the horrors her unconscious cognition had conjured up of Garrus being flayed with her a bystander, paralysed to help him and maimed instead of her on that night. 

 

 

“ _Fuck_ ” she howled as her fists pounded the dashboard of the clunky stolen alliance vehicle. Strings of curses in every language she knew few from her lips. The whole point of coming to Tuchanka was to occupy her mind with anything other than the turian that haunted her.

 

 

Searching for a bottle of _anything_ she scrambled around and found only empties. A dry, hollow sob fell from her chapped lips. 

 

 

She revved the mako into life and made her way back to the colony to restock on supplies, see if Grunt wanted to go for one of their ‘adventures’ which mostly just involved shooting things. 

 

 

Also… To get a tune up on the mako, it was in bad shape. She had taught herself how to drive in her late teens on some desolate planet, and had a tendency to go on off road excursions. Cheap thrills, sue her. 

 

 

Garrus wouldn’t leave her mind, awake or unconscious it didn't matter, the glacier blue eyes tormented her. Sometimes it was the same dream, others he knew her past and detested her, wanted to lock her up, kill her. Those ones were the worst, she could almost see it happening if they ever found each other again. 

 

 

It was pathetic and weak she kept telling herself, trying to believe it. But deep down she knew that was her training speaking, Damyan’s words, _emotion makes you weak Zonlerowich._

 

 

Tears fogged up her vision and she flew off a large chunk of the ruins, hysterical laughter mixed with hoarse sobs. The mako landed with a crash but kept on going, it could take a beating, a vehicle that took after her.

 

 

After a few hours she reached her hiding spot and collected the scrap she had collected for the mechanic and bounded up to the colony. 

 

 

She shared drinks with Wrex and Grunt sitting in the presence of her friends helped fill the cavern of her chest.

 

 

Later she asked Grunt if he wanted to go out and try and find the thresher maw they and fondly named Sheila who was surprisingly calm and raced them in the mako. Unlike Wrex Grunt could handle her driving which she appreciated. 

 

 

Except he declined saying he was shipping out soon with Aralakh for a mission, instead took up her offer of keeping her company as she climbed high into the colony and sniped off the pyjacks trying to steal food from Ratch. 

 

 

His unnerving giggles every time she got a particularly good shot was contagious and she told him about dinosaurs and other weird Earth critters as he gleefully asked more questions. He even asked her about literature, she hadn’t seen that one coming. 

 

 

She almost felt comfort here with the tank bread krogan she had rescued and the grizzled merc she met on a bender after a mission. A hodgepodge little family.

 

 

Until Wrex called out to her over the comms they shared that a Spectre shuttle was inbound, ETA 10 minutes.

 

 

She didn't have time to hide, she told Grunt to go and shrunk further into the shadows of her snipers nest.

 

 

She requested for Wrex to keep his comms on if they came to speak to him so she could hear what they were saying, in case it had to do with her situation, to which he easily obliged. 

 

 

//

 

 

The human Spectres felt a slight unease on Tunchunka, hell, Ash didn’t think she had ever even been in the Krogan DMZ.

 

 

They left the drop zone and were met with disdained stares from the other inhabitants of the colony. Vorcha spat insults and Ashley rolled her eyes up to the sky and prayed for patients. 

 

 

Followed by Alenko and Vega they wandered around the area looking for someone who looked like they might be in charge or have some information on the goings on in the area. 

 

 

Vega motioned to a big red krogan who looked like Urdrot Wrex according to their sources, standing in a clearing of rubble next to a bootleg throne of concrete slabs. She nodded in acknowledgement. It looked as if he was talking to someone over comms, but they were too far out of earshot to make anything he was saying and there was no way any of them could lip read a krogan. 

 

 

He turned to them and watched them approach, letting them pass through his guards he welcomed them with a gruff “What do you want human? I mean… Spectres?”

 

 

Kaidan stepped forward, “I’m Alenko, my team Williams and Vega,” He gestured to each of them. “We are looking for someone and wanted to know if you have seen them.”

 

 

The krogan looked at them with light exasperation, “What does this someone look like and why should I care?”

 

 

Ashley spoke up “They are dangerous and have allies on this planet so it’s in your best interest to cooperate. We don’t want anyone to get hurt.” She appealed.

 

 

She was met with a laugh which made her blush in frustration. “Look around, you are on Tuchanka, everything is dangerous, anything could kill you.”

 

 

Ashley sighed and pulled up the still of Damian holding up the picture of the person of interest on her omnitool and thrusted it towards Wrex. “Have you seen her or not.” 

 

 

The krogan stepped back. “What do you want with her.”

 

 

“So you do know her?” Supplied Vega.

 

 

The unnerving gaze of the brogans red eyes burned through all of them. He repeated; _“What do you want with her.”_  

 

 

Ashley licked her lips choosing her words carefully, realising there may be some emotional connection here. “We just want to ask her a few questions, we don’t want any trouble. We just to talk, set some things straight.”

 

 

Some rubble above them fell and they all looked up. “She’s real.” Ashley huffed out in a whisper. 

 

 

Olesya stood above them in an alcove, biotics glowing as she stepped off the ledge and free fell to their level. 

 

 

She was as tall as Kaidan and had a intense glare on her face as she stepped out of the small crater she left when she hit ground. 

 

 

Her stride towards them was one of a apex predator, careful but with meaning. The polaroid must have been old because the young woman in the photo was no where near as the hardened person before them, a new scar split through her left brow and her eyes were lifeless. 

 

 

“What do you want with me then.” Her voice was husky and had the same nondescript accent as the man Damian. 

 

 

Ashley refused to be intimidated. “What does the name Damian Rothman mean to you?” 

 

 

Olesya’s face scrunched up in confusion. “Nothing. Why, he want a date or something?” reticent sarcasm dripping in her voice but the former statement felt true.

 

 

Ashley held up a picture of the man to catch her off guard, and got the reaction she was hoping for. 

 

 

Olesya jumped back to stand in line with the large krogan Wrex. “How the fuck do you know who that is? You working for him? Fucking corrupting the goddamn counsel now?” She spat at them he biotics began to flare as she fell into a defensive stance. 

 

 

Wrex followed suit and gritted out “Is that who I think it is?” to the woman next to him and got a tight nod in agreement.

 

 

Ashley, really not wanting a fight on her hands with a krogan and his guard along with a woman who’s capabilities so far unknown, threw up her arms in defence. “We don’t want trouble, clearly we misjudged the situation.” she said backtracking. 

 

 

Kaidan added “We want to help, he approached us, he doesn’t know we are here. We just want to get facts straight.” 

 

 

“You have no idea of what that man is capable of.” Olesya’s voice was a hiss and on the verge of breaking. 

 

 

“Then come with us for a bit, we promise you safety, for information and we have information that might be beneficial to you in kind.” Ashley said trying to keep her voice neutral, not to let on that the trio clearly was way out of their depth in terms of information.

 

 

Relaxing her stance and sharing a glance at her krogan companion, “I will talk but only if Spectre Nihlus Kryik is also present.” She came forward until the was just feet away from them, “And if I don't come back from your ship, or break contact with Wrex or any of his clan for more than three standard days, you will have a krogan company on your ass in a heartbeat.” She made eye contact with each of them, showing she was true to her word.

 

 

Solidifying that another slightly smaller krogan had appeared by her side giving a sinister chuckle and cracked his knuckles.

 

 

Ashley looked at either men at her side and they gave a nod. “Olesya, we have a deal.” She held out her hand for the taller woman to shake.

 

 

“Ew, please don’t call me that. ‘Shepard’ is fine.” She gave Ash potentially the firmest handshake she had ever received in her life and gave a passive gesture with her arms, “Lead the way Williams.”

 

 

 

//

 

To the Spectre’s pleasant surprise Shepard settled in without any disturbance to the rest of the crew. She gave up her weapons (and good lord did she have a lot of knives), on the terms that she knew where they were in the armoury and weren't to be touch by anyone, _especially_ her black widow. 

 

 

They offered her a bed on the crew deck but she politely declined and said she “Didn’t want to disrupt the flow of things” and set up in an unused part of the ship tucked out of the way under engineering.

 

 

When they first lead her onto the Normandy it was hard to miss the look of awe on her face as she entered the grand CIC. It was almost endearing if it wasn’t for the intimidation she caused the crew. The childish look of absolute glee when she heard EDI’s voice and squeal of delight when she head she was an AI made it even more hard to believe that she was that savage Damian had accused her of being. 

 

 

Ashley showed her to Kaidan and her’s personal shower in their quarters and a gesture of good faith after getting her some water and a protein bar after hearing the woman stomach growl. 

 

 

“Why do you have a massive fishtanks with no fish?”

 

 

Ashley sighed “I don't know, ask Cerberus.”

 

 

Shepard didn’t exactly stink, but it was obvious that she had been on Tuchanka for a while. She was covered in grit and what looked like gun oil and looked like she hadn’t encountered a shower in quite sometime. 

 

 

Shepard praised her countless thank you’s and stripped down in front of Ash with the brashness of someone who had been in the military and was desensitised to nudity. 

 

 

Before Ash could let out a gasp of horror at the amount of scars on the woman body she quickly walked out of the small bathroom, leaving the door open and hunted down something clean for the blonde to wear. 

 

 

Shepard had granted permission for her to go though her duffle bag, all of her clothes were threadbare or dirty. There was no way she was going to fit any of Ash’s clothes. The woman had a good five inches on her and was more scrawny despite the gun she lugged around, probably malnourished, Ashley mused as she grabbed a shirt and sweats from Kaidan’s wardrobe rather than her own.

 

 

Sitting with her back to the bathroom Ashley tried to strike conversation with her. “So how do you know Kryik? That’s an odd request, he's not really known for camaraderie.”

 

 

“Is this an interrogation?”

 

 

Ashley sighed and held her head in her hands. “No, just wanted to know.”

 

 

A pregnant pause hung between them with just the spray of the shower filling the room. “I don't actually remember. I woke up on a planet and he was there. He was kind and I worked a couple of opps with him.”

 

 

Ashley sat up pin straight and turned to the bathroom. “You what?”

 

 

The shower turned off and Shepard stood in the doorway dripping naked. “I’m an trained killer. The man you know as Damian Rothman is Damyan Sokolov he is my handler and trained me since I was a little girl. He works for the Reds a gang in Canada and some other places, name changes depending on what cells you are talking to.” She offered her forearm that had a red rose tattooed on it, then spun and lifted up her hair showing a scar. “The logo and the brand.”

 

 

“I ran, faked my own death to escape, get free will whatever. I worked in C-Sec for a while, but,” She shook her head and grabbed the towel Ash handed her. “I was too comfortable, had to move you know. Nihlus must have seen me in action while I was under and asked me to help him take down some slavers. Felt good to be on the right side for once.” 

 

 

She looked Ash in the eye. “I’m not lying.” She finished softly. 

 

 

Leaning back in her office chair Ashley processed all she had to say and nodded slowly mulling over the information Cerberus had on her. “That… Makes a lot of sense.”

 

 

Shepard frowned. “Eh?”

 

 

“Cerberus has a file on you.” Shepard barked a laugh. “What’s funny about that?” Ashley questioned, knowing that she would be really concerned if a potential enemy had private information on her.

 

 

 

“I killed an entire cell of theirs when I was eleven, guess they are still salty.” 

 

 

“Also what do you mean Nihlus saw you “under’?”

 

 

Shepard let out a deep sigh, Ash thought it might have been of relief. 

 

 

“I have been mentally conditioned to go into a, uh,” she gave a vague hand gesture “malleable sort of trance with a series of words. Damyan gives me kill orders while I’m under, then gives me the word and I snap out of it. Nihlus found me after a hit, took care of me.” She shrugged.

 

 

Ashley looked at the woman, who if in any other circumstance wasn’t wearing her husbands pyjamas would scare her just a bit, in confusion. “What.” She spluttered. 

 

“‘Trained killer”” Shepard reminded her as she sat on the floor in front of her crossing her legs. “As long as I am on your ship and no one fucks with me, you will have no trouble, I will not lay a finger on anyone.” Ashley looked into the woman’s patchy artificially coloured eyes, “I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore and I really hope I can trust you Ms Williams.”

 

 

Ashley’s heart ached for her for a moment. “And you don’t have to. Once we get Nihlus and you feel safe we will sort all this out. I wish we had found you sooner.” 

 

 

Shepard just shrugged and asked if she could smoke and said she could help with the encryptions, she was familiar with hacking Cerberus.

 

 

//

 

 

Shepard had showed a lot a charisma that surprised both Ashley and Kaidan. She had gone around the ships public areas over the past few days dressed in baggy alliance pyjamas bare foot, observing and talking to people as they tried to track down Kyrik.

 

 

She had befriended the pilot Joker and seemed to have a lot of fun throwing banter around between EDI and he, who in Shepard’s opinion bickered like an old couple, despite a lot of peoples hang ups on the fact an AI had run on the monopoly of the ship. She liked her.

 

 

She talked to the engineers that had ditched cerberus at the drop of a hat when they were offered a jot with the Spectres as well as a young quartan on her pilgrimage named Tali who was enamoured with the engine of the ship, although untrusting of EDI. She talked fast and felt like the sister Shepard never had. She managed to talk her into drinking (her habit was hard to maintain on the ship, along with her smoking) with her and Tali drunkenly requested watch _Fleet and Flotilla,_ forcing Shepard to sing along.

 

 

Even the rough looking N7, Vega had given her a nickname ‘ _Lola_ ’ which made Shepard snort.

 

 

“What, why Lola?”

 

 

“Some people just don’t match their names you know? So i just give them a new one. My best friends sister growing up was a Lola, older sister, hot, tough too.”

 

 

She gave a self deprecating laugh. “‘Hot’. _Right._ Whatever _Jimmy._ ” She jested back.

 

 

She knew he was just teasing but a pang in her chest reminded her that her body was marred and definitely not hot. Tough, strong? Sure. But she had never thought of her self as sexually pleasing to look at unless under a façade. 

 

 

And asked her to spar.

 

 

Which drew a lot of attention and even some friendly betting. 

 

 

There was absolute silence as people saw shepard in a compression bra and gym shorts. She could feel the eyes all over the massive scar on her side,and then… all the other ones, plus the judgement of her tattoos. She took a deep breath and focused on Jimmy before her. 

 

 

She started stretching making the muscles that were more pronounced after her stint on Tuchunka helped shed the weight she had gained on the Citadel ripple. 

 

 

“Whoa Lola, looks like you got even more ink than me.” Vega said, maybe just to break the silence. Eyeing her as if he had been underestimating her, or just hadn't read the worst that Cerberus had on her. She shrugged. 

 

 

She did’t use her biotics, and just as she had with Garrus she pulled all her punches, no one seemed to notice. But Vega was good none the less. 

 

 

Vega ended up on his ass, both parties panting. She helped him up. “Where did you learn to fight like that Lola?”

 

 

“A paid drell assassin, and piece of shit humans since I was seven.” She answered avoiding his eyes. “You were taught to fight to fight, I was taught to fight that if I didn't fight back I’d die.”

 

 

She had been keeping up light encrypted communication with Wrex. Everything felt too safe, just like C-Sec.

 

 

//

 

 

“Uh, Shepard, you are gonna wanna see this.” Joker called over the intercom. 

 

 

Swiftly She got up from the couch she was lounging on putting down the data pad she had reading though to go see the flight lieutenant.

 

 

Jogging across the CIC she got to the cockpit. “What’s going on Joker?” a soft tone of concern in her voice present, knowing that Joker was slightly afraid of her, not that he should ever admit it. 

 

 

He gestured to a collection of CCTV footage of different angles of a turian sniper in blue armour. “Found Kryik… Looks like he accidentally got themselves stuck in a gang war. EDI managed to hack into Omega’s security in this area.”

 

 

Suddenly she saw all too familiar blue colony markings. “ Oh fuck… Garrus.” Her stomach dropped at the sight of Garrus again after all this time, after only seeing him in her dreams.

 

 

“I’m going to get them, and if anyone gets in my way will regret it. No one beats up Garrus but me.”

 

 

“What the _fuck_ is all this? How did they manage to piss his many people off?” Her eyes wide as she saw troops of various command and mercenary units slowly moving in on them. 

 

 

“I’m going to get them, and if anyone gets in my way will regret it. No one beats up Garrus but me.”

 

 

“Aw, Shep, I didn’t know you had a soul.” Joker called out as she stormed out flipping him the bird barely controlling her biotics. 

 

 

“So not the time, Joker.” She yelled back. He just chuckled. 

 

 

“Informing Spectres Alenko and Williams would probably be prudent, Jeff.”

 

 

“Yeah,” He muttered back to the disembodied female voice, “But I kind of don’t want my knees broken. And I’ll give her a head start, I read what Cerberus has on her, she's a small army.”

 

 

//

 

 

Beelining for the docking bay of the ship thankfully Vega wasn’t there, she skipped though the bowels of engineering, collected all her weapons and armoured up, knives and grenades stashed, said a quick word of apology to her parents for the transgression she was going to commit. 

 

 

Tears steadily flowed down her cheeks as she grabbed the small bag of red sand out of the hiding place in her boot. She held it up to the dum light light, memories of the drug being forced into her as a child to see how it would effect her biotics rendered her hands clammy and her mouth dry. 

 

 

Never had she wanted to take the stimulant again, too many bad memories of vicious fights were associated with it. The comedown was a bitch, the shakes, the zaps of her neurones, depending on how much she would take she’d be sick to her stomach. 

 

 

Her boys were worth it. 

 

 

With a shaky hand she steadied herself, tipping the contents onto the metal table in front of her and started crushing down the powder finer with a knife and then chopping into neat little lines before snorting 40 grams of it tipping her head back and waiting for the ride to begin.

 

 

She stormed out of the shuttle bay and into Omega’s main docking bay.

 

 

The waves of synthetic euphoria and anger that coursed though her veins pumping up her emotions and intentions. She could almost only hear the rush of her blood in her ears, her vision was tainted with red around the edges. 

 

 

Through the whispers of Omega she found that there was gang war that had a erupted and a bounty had been set for whoever could kill the two turians who were held up on some balcony in the Kima district.

 

 

Walking with her head high mercilessly pushing her way thought the withering bodies of Afterlife she found the back room though to sign up as mere to gain entry to where Kyrik and Vakarian were in a lower ward. 

 

 

“Woooow, aren’t you sweet” the bartarian drawled dragging his eyes up her tight fitting armour and tousled hair. Finally settling on her pretty face, freckle kissed, blushed cheeks, full lips and big eyes with blown out pupils from the drugs in her system. Any strip joint goers dream. Sleaze in his voice he continued “You’re in the wrong place honey, strippers quarters are that way” he gestured with his head. 

 

 

Shepard pulled her Black Widow from her back, holding the long barrel between his eyes. She snarled, “You show me yours tough guy, I bet mines bigger.” He held up his hands and let her pass, scaring away a young man who had a mere pistol who looked like he was going to sign up for the hunt until he saw her. 

 

 

She barged past everyone, her buzz getting stronger, she could feel static building in her fingers, the fire building in her that she hadn’t felt in a long time. Power, the desire to maim with nothing but pure unfiltered wrath. 

 

 

She hated it.

 

 

Shaking herself mentally as much as she could to get her emotions in check and her priorities straight. _Injure mercs, only kill if necessary, get to the boys._

 

 

Sabotaging other mercs on her way though the back alleys making sure that there would be as little carnage as she could make and get the upper hand. Hoping that the synthetic mechs and ruining wiring in ATALS and YMIR units that she _really_ didn’t want to deal with.

 

 

Gunfire became louder as she found the entry to the large area where the showdown between two turians on a balcony and a fuck load of mercs. 

 

 

Cursing softly as she noticed the familiar blue armour of Garrus and the black red of Nihlus.

 

 

She ducked behind some crates analysing the groups of mercs, realising that all three of the main organisations had banded together to take them down.

 

Her pep talk of ‘ _only kill if necessary’_ went out the window as the rush of affection for her two dumb turians flooded though her. She wasn’t about to let anything happen to them until she could talk with Garrus. 

 

 

“Oh boys who the fuck did you piss off…” She murmured, lining up a shot to the back of someones head, the shot rang out as the perfect shot blew the mercs’ head open like a watermelon, grey matter plastering the surrounding bodies.

 

 

Firing off as many headshot as she could aiming at the bodies closest to her goal to buy her boys some time, corpses hitting the floor like flies. A shot bounced of her biotic armoured shoulder, she cursed herself and hoped they would recognise her.

 

 

Soon the attackers had noticed her presence and more shots were starting to ring out towards her.

 

 

Ducking back into her cover she poured out another few grams of red sand and snorted it off the back of her hand, and switched to her faithful shotgun. 

 

 

Adrenaline and eezo coursing though her she powered up her biotics for a charge, she charged though into the mids of the enemy crashing into armoured bodies. 

 

 

Her amp burned the back of her neck like it an iron held to her bare skin, but her biotics clouded around her and the red haze of her vision gave her the surreal feeling of immortality and she leaped into the air and let out a nova shock wave, hurling surrounding bodies back like rag dolls in all directions, some slamming against walls with bone shattering crunches, others hurled into each other. 

 

 

She pumped shot after shot into the mercs as some got back up, causing them to crumple back down a split second later. 

 

 

Her heart dropped when a YMIR came stomping towards her, she had gone up against them before but she hated them. She fisted and relaxed her fists a few times as she tried to think. She thought she had fucked with all their wiring. 

 

 

Grenades.

 

 

She threw an armour piercing one then an inferno, but as if an archangel was watching over her the mech’s circuits she were overloaded causing weakness. Taking advantage of the weakness she picked up a machine gun off the ground and emptied an entire clip into the mech. She ran for cover as it sparked and fell to the ground.

 

 

She took several deep breaths to centre herself, wiping the clammy hair stuck to her sweat slick forehead. 

 

 

She peaked over her shelter grabbing her rifle and picked off some of the closest mercs to clear a path to get to the balcony access.

 

 

There were only a several lightly armoured mercs in her way she brought out her knives from this hidden sheathes and left from her handing position and onto the back of a blue suns merc, sinking the steel into he side of his neck, using her momentum she proceeded to slice and dice the next few mercs flowing her way.

 

 

Flicking her eyes over the back area where she was making sure it was safe enough for her to go up she wiped the knives clean of the multi coloured blood they had collected and tried to make herself presentable.

 

 

_Not for Garrus_ she lied to herself, _just for… her own vanities sake._ She cursed herself and tried to scrub her face clean of carnage and dirt. 

 

 

She powered up the stairs as fast as she could, gathering heat sinks on her way. She was faced two strung out looking turians, on the dregs of their energy, running on stims.

 

 

Pointedly she ignored their gaze she rasped out, “What needs to be done to get you both so safety?” 

 

 

Nihlus slumped against a crate and let out a soft string of curses. Sighing he said “I forgot that you are a militia in a tiny human body.”

 

 

She shrugged in response, “I’ll add that to my resume.” She slumped against a post grasping for her cigarettes in a pocket citing one up, taking a deep drag to catch her breath. 

 

 

Garrus who was still in position and fired off one last shot before turning towards her voice. Awkwardly cleared his throat. “There are three vents they are coming though, jam them closed and we will regroup here. I’ll send you the locations” 

 

 

She nodded affirmative, noticing his stiff almost hostile posture. 

 

 

“Oli,” She heard Kryik call out as she was turning away, “Don’t be stupid, also quit smoking.” 

 

 

“I’m leaving all the stupid with you, _Dad_.” She said with a snort, flicking the smoke over the side of the balcony, the embers causing spilt gas to ignite below them. 

 

 

Readjusting her rifle on her shoulder continuing her move to the location of vent number one. 

 

 

Throwing drown a flash bang grenade down the staircase that was about to go down for stragglers that were still alive. She paused and ran her tongue over her teeth in contemplation, turning on her heel her eye met with Garrus’ and her heart clenched. “I owe you a hell of an explanation, I promise I will make this right. We’ll talk?”

 

 

Garrus gave a half hearted shrug as he resting his arm on his rifle and reclined against the crates Nihlus was leaning slouched against, all his old bravado returning without a word. Her throat became tight, she was right. He loathed her, how could she blame him. She was a fucking monster and she had just proven that with her little performance, especially if he saw the drug use.

 

 

Nihlus looked up at Garrus with a disdained look and punched him in the knee. “Hey!” Garrus yelped, and bent his head a sighed. 

 

 

His swagger also still in full force despite being dead on his feet exhausted, he sauntered towards her, an attempt to make up for the whirlwind of emotion inside him. “Just, please don’t run again.” 

 

 

She noticed his hand raising at his side as if to touch her. Biting her lip she grabbed his hand and brought it up to her cheek.

 

 

“My word is my bond.” she whispered and kissed his palm and released his hand. The warmth of his touch filled her with more euphoria than the red sand or coke ever had.

 

 

Sudden realisation hit her, “Also thanks for shooting me in the shoulder you dope!”

 

 

Garrus’ eyes went round and sheepish, “It was just a concussive round… Didn’t want the other mercs catching on too soon. If I had wanted to take down you shields I’d have done it.”

 

 

Taking a knife from a hiding spot, she trailed the push dagger lightly up his armour, “And just as easily could’ve I” she said lightly, now brushing the blade gently against the soft plates on his neck. He exhaled heavily leaning into her. “If i had really desired to.”

 

 

Nihlus burst the bubble of pining that had engulfed the pair with a weary groan. “For the record you both disgust me, link up our comms. There is another wave coming so _move,_ Oli. So get out there and do what you do best.”

 

 

Nodding she shot Garrus a wink and began the assault. Just as she was out of their sight she snorted more of the wretched sand and stims to keep up her impetus upon the mercs. 

 

 

She was just getting started. 

 

 

//

 

 

Travelling with Kyrik had been great for him, he had gotten to do missions that had never given him the rush that any of the field work he did in his military youth had ever provided.

 

 

He had been trying to push the thoughts of her to the side, never bringing her up in conversation, not that Nihlus was big on small talk. So she was a mystery. He couldn’t find anything on the extranet either. Even her alias Jane Shepard had been erased from C-Sec, it was all as if she had never existed. 

 

 

As soon as he lost view of her, Garrus moved back to his sniping spot, just as Nihlus moved to pick off the closer mercenaries that were the replacing the infiltration team. 

 

 

Now was his time to see what Nihlus would provide since she was technically third party of their squad.

 

 

He cleared his throat, speaking low enough so she couldn’t hear them over the comms. “So she could always fight like that?”

 

 

Nihlus muted their voices on the comms. “Since she was a kid yeah.” Nihlus sighed. “She’s just warming up too, that was nothing compared to what else I have seen her do.” There was almost pain in his voice when he spoke. 

 

 

“You have seen her do more damage than _that_ on her own?” Garrus asked startled looking out over the blood soaked expanse before them.

 

 

“She was pumped full of red sand plus other drugs and stims, wasn’t in her right mind either.” He replied tightly. 

 

 

“That… Trigger thing?” Garrus recalled him speaking about it back at his apartment.

 

 

He got a tight nod in response. 

 

 

“ _Woo! I just found a credit chit with four grand on it. I’m buying us drinks once this is done_ ” Her voice crackled over the comms breaking their heavy conversation.

 

 

“Good, because you owe me at least three rounds from last time we were out, kid.” Nihlus replied not taking his eyes of Garrus, knowing he easing going to relent on their topic. 

 

 

“Right… So, what do you call her when she's not Shepard… Because she sure as shit isn’t Jane Shepard.” He could feel Nihlus’ gaze on him.

 

 

“Oli… I call her Oli, thats what she first introduced herself as.”

 

 

“Her parents called her Oli, full name Olesya Zolnerowich. Her handler called her Olesya when he was trying to keep her placid and Zoldnerowich in the field. So she hates it.” Nihlus smirked over at him. 

 

 

“Seems to like it when you call her Shepard though, maybe keep that up, eh? 

Might earn you some points in your favour, not that you need them, she’s smitten.”

 

 

“Oh.” Garrus’ heart quickened in pace. Maybe what they had on the Citadel wasn’t just part of the cover.

 

 

“Yeah ‘ _Oh_ ’.” Nihlus said eyeing him. “Just listen to what she has to say before you judge her to hard, knowing her she's already punishing herself for all the bloodshed she has let loose here. She’s a good person under all the alcohol, asshole and you already know that because that is just what she showed you at C-Sec.”

 

 

“I- I don’t believe she's a murderer or some sort of human made monster. She can’t be.” The carefree smile and laughter she starred with him back in his apartment back when they were with C-Sec flashed in his mind, her mouth on his. “Wait, you were keeping tabs on her on the Citadel?” 

 

 

“I keep tabs on a lot of things, Vakarian. It wasn’t coincidence that I kept coming to the Citadel. As you have noticed I like to keep moving or shit like this happens.” He said taking out a few mercs and throwing out an armour shredding grenade. “I want to keep her away from her handler. I was the first person she called friend and I’m not about to betray that.”

 

 

Before Garrus could keep the light investigation on his ex-parter that he sort-of-not-really-but-definately-did-have-a-crush-on going, he was interrupted with her voice that floated over the comms.

 

 

“Okay boys, first and second vent cleared, on my way to the third. How are you holding up?” 

 

 

“Fine for now, but keep your ass safe they seem to be bringing out the bigger guns so the faster you close those vents and get back the better.” Nihlus replied. 

 

 

 

The fire fight became ruthless as Blood Pack let in a wave. Garrus’ groaned his muscles were straining and he could see fatigue in Nihlus as well. “Well damn Garrus if I didn’t know any better that groan sounded like you and Kryik were up to bumping nasties up there” Shepard’s voice crackled over the comms. He had missed her horribly inappropriate banter and laughed in reply.

 

 

“See this is why I always put you on mute when I work with you, Oli” Nihlus quipped back.

 

 

“Aw come on, you love me.”

 

 

A ‘ _damn right I do’_ was on the tip of his tongue when she came hurtling though the door under the balcony in a flurry of bullets . 

 

 

“Oh thank fuck.” Nihlus mumbled. 

 

 

“I got you’re backs boys” She called out. “Lets do this shit!”

 

 

The trio worked hard against the Blood Pack, the flow of enemies thinning rapidly. Shepard even somehow managed to cut off one of Garm’s hands and it up to them with a holler of delight at Nihlus’ yelp of disgust. 

 

 

“You never fail to remind me how repulsive your pranks are _Shepard._ ” He shouted over gun fire, and Garrus was slightly unsettled if this was what was considered a prank between the pair. 

 

 

Then there was silence the party huffed laughs of relief that the battle was over. Their joy was squashed by the sudden roar of an engine, a blue suns gun ship flew into sight. 

 

 

“Oh fuck… Who in the goddamn…” Oli started. 

 

 

“Tarak…” Garrus supplied short of breath just before the onslaught of bullets graced them. 

 

 

“Give him your all!” Nihlus yelled. 

 

 

Garrus barrel rolled into cover, trying to get a good shot, pulled out and then his world went black.

 

 

//

 

 

Oli’s eyes grew wide and a feeling she hadn’t felt since she was a child seeing her parents corpses filled her at the sight of Garrus’ limp bleeding body. 

 

 

She ran to him and hauled Nihlus into cover. “Get him to the normandy at the docking bay by Afterlife, Spectres Alenko and Williams are there. Here is their contact, get him a fucking shuttle from them _now._ ” She barked at Nihlus. He looked slightly spooked that she had that sort of command in her. 

 

 

“Garrus, Моя звезда, hang in there, it’s gonna be okay,” she caressed the non mauled side of his face and gave Nihlus a meaningful look. “ _Go._ ” 

 

 

The rage she had been repressing for years bubbled and overflowed. Aiming at the damned gunship she used every weapon she had. She let out shockwave after shockwave, grenade after grenade. Finally she gave him her.

 

 

Operating on pure instinct she leaped onto the gunship, the look of terror on the batarian’s face before her gave her a satisfaction she wasn't expecting. Punching the glass of the ship, with the biotic force covering her fist she broke through and grabbed this _Tarak_ by the neck. 

 

 

Taking a bowie knife she started sawing though his neck, blood coating her, but she wanted his fucking head.

 

 

The gunship lost control and crashed. She blacked out for a few moments and crawled out of the destruction, holding up the head of the leader. “If anyone, _anyone_ at all wants to fuck with me and whats mine by all means bring it the fuck on.”

 

 

The few mercs that were left whispered amidst each other and decided it wasn't worth it and disbanded. 

 

 

Sighing she dropped the second head she took that day and dropped herself against a wall panting. 

 

 

Two sets of running footsteps approached her, she didn't look up just held up her shotgun.

 

 

But what did make her look up was the hushed “ _Oh my god_ ” that belonged to one Ashley Williams. 

 

 

“Shepard, you gotta come back with us.” Kaidan said firmly, gripping her arm and hoisting her up, Ashley materialised at her other side. They began their way back to the Normandy.

 

 

All she could do was nod, her head was pounding and she felt her nose start to stream blood. She was coming down, and she was coming down hard.

 

 

The last thing she could coherently remembered asking was “Is he on the ship? Is he gonna make it?”

 

 

Ashley replied, she thought it was Williams’s voice anyway, “Yeah. He’s in bad shape but I have faith in Chakwas, he will pull though.” Shepard hummed an approval.

 

 

 

//

 

Garrus found her where he was camping out in the forward battery, after deciding that he had better rest for a moment before his calibrations got sloppy. He was surprised to say the least to see her in his self designated sleeping area.

 

 

Escaping Dr Chakwas’ grasp was almost impossible with her steel gaze and absolutely no nonsense attitude when it came to the care of her patients. 

 

 

When he had tried to leave the infirmary early he was met with a chilling stare from the doctor and immediately got back in the cot without a word. 

 

 

Once he had recovered from the cybernetics that were quite literally holding his face together and was bandaged up he claimed the forward battery. 

 

 

But not before scoping out the common areas of the ship, catering a list of strengths and weaknesses in the integrity of the ship. The large windows on the sides of the ship did make him mildly nervous. 

 

 

He chose it for a few reasons, it was quiet so no foot traffic and he could enjoy the hum of the room and tinker with the guns, because in his personal opinion whoever programmed them was a blithering idiot and had no respect for calibration a beautiful gun. Plus calculus was soothing to him, sue him he was a bad turian but a turian none the less.

 

 

It also gave him good access to peer into the med bay to see what was going on with Shepard without being too obvious, with the excuse of getting something to drink from the mess. 

 

 

When she had staggered back into the ship Alenko and Williams seized her with a iron grip on each of her arms, she was coming down hard, crashing. She had been on something and he hadn’t noticed. What kind of detective even was he.

 

 

They hauled her into the elevator to confiscate her weapons and clean her up to take her to Chakwas. 

 

 

She had reeked of carnage and had enough red sand in her to overdose two humans, and had a blood alcohol level that shocked the good doctor so much she said that she was lucky her liver was still working let alone be alive. From his cot he had heard Shepard mumble something about who gives a shit if she was alive or not the job was done and the boys were safe.

 

 

Garrus still healing and foggy with pain meds to say what he wanted and drifted back to sleep before he saw any more of her treatment. 

 

 

He moved towards the small bundle of human, strands of hair cascading out of the humans small fortress of blankets she must have stolen from a supply closet. The red he had loved was almost a pink, his heart clenched at the memory of her fake identity. This was her now blonde and dark eyed. He just hoped she was the same on the inside.

 

 

He checked the time on his omnitool and carefully not to wake her curled around her, pulling her close to his chest and breathed her in her scent not being able to help himself, as he drifted off to sleep.

 

 

Garrus stirred as a warm body wriggled against his. 

 

 

“Hey.” He murmured down to her pulling her close.

 

 

“Hey yourself.” She removed the arm draped across his chest much to his disappointment and propped herself up so she could look down at him.

 

 

“What are you doing in here, Chakwas is gonna throw a fit.” He whispered to her, softly moving a few strands of hair from her face.

 

 

She rubbed at her eyes waking herself further from her groggy state. “I heal fast and I missed you, you smell nice.” Her voice was hoarse and her cheeks grew pink as she avoided his gaze. She took a deep breath and let out a sigh.

 

 

“Look listen… Before you get info from anyone else, I just want you to know Cerberus somehow has a lot of files on me. I think the people who, well, owned me caused them a great deal of hurt on them in the past.

 

 

“I was on contract to kill for other species to take the heat away from them, make it look like a human hit. I have done a lot of bad shit, most of that not at my own volition the majority of the time.” Tears were slowly forming in her eyes and Garrus caught the first one that fell with his thumb and wiped it away.

 

 

“Williams and Alenko are probably going to interrogate me tomorrow to see what they are going to do with me. I just want you to understand, I never once wanted to lie to you about my true identity once we got close. Everything else is real, I really care for you Garrus.

 

 

But if you don’t like what you see and hear, I can’t blame you and you will never see me again. Especially if you see any of me in action, I’m a monster.” A soft sob wracked though her tiny frame.

 

 

Garrus hushed her with a comforting rumble that ruminated from his chest and into hers. He started combing fingers though her hair like a mother could caress a child turians fringe, hoping it had the same calming effect. 

 

 

“Just sleep, we will work though this. We were partners, I still got your six.” He pressed a kiss into her hair as she let out more soft cries. “You’re not a monster.” He had a feeling this was the first time she had been truly vulnerable with anyone in a long time. 

 

 

Her sobs slowly subsided and they fell asleep once again in each others arms.

 

 

//

 

Back on Earth up deep in northern Canada Damyan got grainy footage from an Omega informant of Olesya beheading a Bartarian. 

 

A snarl of a smile tugged across his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked this, let me know if you have any questions or requests for the next chapter hit me up.


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